Into the Rushes
by FlamePumpkin32
Summary: Welcome to Cora's fifth year at Hogwarts. Darkness falls over the castle as Harry and Dumbledore are ridiculed in the papers, the Ministry interferes at school, and the threat of You-Know-Who looms nearer. Cora must face all of these challenges while she grows closer to her father and commits herself to a relationship with Fred Weasley. What danger looms around the corner...?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello and welcome to another year at Hogwarts! This is Coralynn's fifth year so if you haven't already done so, please go and read years 2-4 or you may be a little lost. This year gets a bit more adult so the rating will go up as the chapters get more, well, adult. Enjoy!

* * *

 _ **Chapter 1: Molly Weasley's Woes**_

It had been the hottest summer in years. A hazy, lazy atmosphere blanketed the Burrow just outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Due to drought, dust clouds from the village hung in the air, coating every bit of the Weasley abode. Where the village was looking quite brown and yellow, Molly Weasley's garden was enchanted to stay bright and colorful without much water. In the shade and close to the ground was the coolest place to be in a house that had no air conditioning. The lack of a breeze and all of the bodies made the Burrow stifling.

This is where I found myself relaxing during the beginning of our summer holiday away from school. I was staying with the Weasley family because Ted and Andi were vacationing in New Zealand and Tonks, who had passed her Auror exams, was constantly working. I didn't mind this, however. I loved the Burrow. It was home to me. Molly was my godmother, Ron was one of my best friends, and Fred was my boyfriend. The Weasleys' were my family.

Like I said, I was relaxing under the shade of Molly's hydrangeas when I felt a body lay close to mine. I turned my head and cracked an eye open to see Fred resting on his stomach. He sent me a lazy smile as he folded his arms in front of him and laid his head down. He softly muttered a greeting as he closed his eyes. This was our meeting spot of choice. At the end of last year, Molly found out that Fred and I were dating. Since then, we were never left alone together. Molly, although she was absolutely thrilled, did not trust her son with her only goddaughter. She made it clear that there was to be no "hanky-panky" and so, we were always watched.

"It's too hot to be inside," I mused.

"'S too hot to be outside," Fred chuckled. He reached over with one hand and brushed a few stray curls out of my face.

"Where's your mom?"

"Village. Percy's supposed to come home tonight. Got something to tell us all apparently."

After a moment of silence, I chuckled, "She'd be furious if she knew we were _alone_."

"She'll have to deal with it," Fred moaned dramatically as he rolled over, half on top of me. I laughed as I tried to push his crushing body off of me. When Fred returned back to his stomach, he ran his fingers through my hair. "Does Sirius know," he asked softly.

I sighed deeply, "Sirius wouldn't know anything about my life. He doesn't ask me anything apart from how Harry's doing. I don't think he cares for anything except Harry, actually."

"I'm sure that's not true, Cora. He's your dad. He cares about you."

I smiled sadly at Fred. "Maybe. He's got a funny way of showing it – I don't know."

We stayed in the shade for a good while until we heard the distinct pop of someone Apparating. Molly's voice called out for help. She no doubt had been held down with groceries for the large dinner she wanted to prepare for Percy's return. It was Ginny who came out to help her. Fred and I stayed quiet as Molly chattered on about the non-magic villagers and how the price of milk had gone up. I breathed a sigh of relief when they had gone inside. The three other Weasley children who lived at the Burrow had been good at keeping it secret whenever Fred and I disappeared together. We did it quite often. Fred was turning me into a little rebel.

"Cora! Cora, dear," Molly called.

"Oh, shit," I whispered, chuckling as Molly's head popped out of the kitchen window from above us. She looked around a bit, eyes narrowed.

"Ginny, where's Cora?"

"Ginny, have you seen –" George went silent as he entered the kitchen.

"Has Ginny seen who, dear," Molly's voice became a little strained. George stumbled over his words and Ginny hadn't said anything. Fred was holding his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing at the situation happening inside. I rolled onto my stomach so I could crawl out from the cover of the flowers and shrubs.

Before I could move, Fred's lips grazed mine in a sweet kiss. "It's just my mum," Fred chuckled, "She's not going to kick you out for running off with me."

I cupped Fred's cheek. "Oh, it's not me I'm worried about," I whispered back.

"Where is Cora," Molly questioned her kids. She groaned, "You were supposed to be watching them!"

"We were," George said quickly.

"If those two are off – canoodling – somewhere in this house I'll –"

"Hey, Molly! Back from shopping," I asked as I casually leaned against the back doorframe. Molly's eyes narrowed. I was well aware that my clothes were dirty.

"Cora, dear," Molly's voice became sweeter. "Where were you?"

"Taking a walk. I heard you calling, so I came back."

"And why are your clothes so dirty?"

"I tripped," I shrugged.

"Uh-huh. And where's Fred."

"I don't know," I said innocently. "I haven't seen him all day."

Just as Molly was about to respond, Ron came into the kitchen. He was carrying a box of old clothes that he outgrew over our fourth year. I was supposed to be helping him pack them up when I decided to lay out in the garden instead. From around the box, Ron grunted. He obviously hadn't seen his mom.

"Nice of you to help, Cora. Don't think I didn't notice Fred join you in your little hiding spot from my window!"

"WHAT," Molly exploded. Ron dropped the box he was carrying. He looked between me and Molly like a deer caught in the headlights. Ginny and George both face-palmed their foreheads. At this same moment, Fred walked up from behind me, looking dirt free. Molly rounded on us. "What did I tell you about being alone!?"

"Mum –"

"You know I approve, but she's underage, Fred!"

"Mum, I –"

"You can't just run around –"

"We aren't "running around"," Fred burst out. Everyone stared at Fred. He took my hand, squeezing it hard. When he cooled down, Fred spoke again. "I really care about her, mum."

While Molly and Fred argued downstairs, I had spent the rest of the afternoon up in Ginny's room. I was laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about the confession Fred had made to his family. He said he "really cared" about me. Like, what did that even mean? And, I knew I had very strong feelings for Fred. I had practically been in love with Fred Weasley since third year, maybe even before that. I loved him when he was happy; I loved him when he was sad. I loved him when he was joking around; I loved him when he was serious. My heart hurt just thinking that Molly would change her mind and not allow us to be together. I hadn't experienced this kind of pain before. Tears rolled down from the corner of my eyes and I was unable to stop them.

There was a knock on the door and someone popped their head in. I didn't look to see who it was. I was too busy staring a hole in the ceiling. The bed creaked and dipped as someone sat down. A hand was placed on my knee. I shut my eyes to keep from crying even more. It was Molly.

"Coralynn," she muttered. I knew she meant business. Molly never used my full name. "Coralynn, dear, I want you to know why I don't like you and Fred being alone."

"Because I'm too young," I huffed.

Molly exhaled deeply. "I don't want you to get hurt. Yes, I am happy that you deeply care for each other. But, you're both so young. You have all the time in the world –"

I cut Molly off, "– it's not like we were doing anything. Tonks has already given me "the talk". I know that I'm young, but weren't you and Arthur underage when you fell in love? I know I really, really, really, _really_ – love him."

Molly was silent. She had been fiddling with her wedding ring with her left thumb. I was genuinely surprised when a small smile lit up her face. "Of course you do," she said, patting my knee. She exhaled again, "We – that is, Fred and I – talked about it, and, if I give you two some space; some time to be alone without supervision, to – develop this relationship more, do you promise –"

"Yes," I sat up quickly. "You don't have to finish that sentence. Yes."

"Well then, that's settled. Besides, I know my son. This doesn't leave the room," Molly leaned closer to me, "You're the greatest girl he'll probably ever have." My godmother chuckled as she tapped my nose. I laughed. I mean – it's true. "Now, come and help me in the kitchen. We have a dinner to prepare for."

* * *

Preparing for dinner was an enjoyable affair. Ginny and I helped peel potatoes as we watched Molly flit about her kitchen. She had been in such a good mood as she hummed to Celestina Warbeck. Out in the garden, the boys were chasing off the gnomes. From the window overlooking our hiding spot, Fred popped his head in. When I saw him, he grinned, wiggling his ear and disappearing. Ginny smacked me playfully. Fred must have used Extendable Ears to listen to me and Molly. I knew I'd have to ask just how much he heard because, even if he said otherwise, I was the greatest good he'd ever get.

It was around six when dinner was ready. Arthur had just gotten home from work and the table was all set for Percy's arrival. After twenty minutes of waiting, I could sense Molly's anxiety growing. Ron had tried to sneak a bread roll and had his hand smacked for it. Molly didn't want to start without Percy. When Percy did show up, he looked as pompous as ever with his pressed suit, slick hair, and horn-rimmed glasses.

"I've been promoted," he announced quite loudly.

"Why," Fred was the first to speak. We had all been a little stunned.

Percy's last job with the Ministry had not been all successful. With everything that had happened with Mr. Crouch, we were a bit surprised at the news. Sure, Percy was ambitious and eager to climb the work ladder, but, for being as close as he was to Crouch, he failed to notice that his boss had "gone mad" and then was murdered. Percy had to face an inquiry; the whole nine yards.

Completely ignoring Fred's question, Percy stood taller as he turned to face Arthur who was sitting at the head of the table. "I've been offered a position in Fudge's own office! Junior Assistant to the Minister!"

Arthur's face paled. If Percy was hoping his family would be impressed, they were not. Fudge was a complete joke. He did not support Harry's claim that Voldemort had come back. He wrote my friend off as just a young boy looking for attention. When Dumbledore tried to back up what had happened the night of the third Triwizard task with evidence, Fudge called Dumbledore a lunatic. According to Arthur, the Minister had been running around the entire Ministry making sure that no one was having any sort of contact with Dumbledore. The Headmaster of Hogwarts – and anyone who was associated with him – was being dragged through the mud.

"And why, son, would you want to be in league with that man," Arthur asked Percy calmly. Before Percy could retort, Arthur asked if Percy knew about the things Fudge was saying about Dumbledore.

"This is a marvelous opportunity –" Percy began.

"A marvelous – son, Fudge knows how close this family is to Dumbledore."

"That has nothing to do with –"

"He only wants you in his office to spy on our family – on Dumbledore."

Percy went ballistic. His nostrils flared and his face went red as he started shouting at Arthur. Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and I remained silent and unmoving as we watched Percy blow up as his father. None of us had ever seen this kind of rage in him before.

"A spy? A SPY?! Do you even know what I have to deal with at work? Do you? I have had to rise up against your reputation," Molly made a squeaking sound. Percy continued, his rage and anger still concentrated on Arthur, "Ever since I started working at the Ministry it's _your_ lousy reputation I've had to beat away. You, who lacks ambition; who is content to stay where you are with your weird Muggle obsession! It's no wonder this family has always been poor! And what's worse; you lot run around with the likes of Dumbledore!"

Molly, Ron, and George's faces went white as sheets. Ginny made a noise like an angry cat. Fred's hands were clenched in fists at his side and his face was contorted in pain. All I could do was loop my arm though his to keep him from rising up and doing something drastic. Arthur had stood, nose to nose with Percy. They both looked like they were going to explode.

"Fudge has made it quite clear that anyone who is in league with Dumbledore can clear out their desks," Arthur told his son in a low voice. Arthur couldn't lose his job. His whole family counted on him.

"You are an idiot running around with that old fool! Dumbledore is in for big trouble and you will go down with him!"

"Percy, you _must_ know that You-Know-Who is back," Arthur yelled. "How can you ignore it when Barty was Imperused and murdered –"

"The only evidence is Harry Potter's word and that's not good enough! The words of a fourteen-year-old boy mean nothing against the Minister!"

It was my turn to growl. How could Percy say these things? How blind could he be? Molly and Arthur wouldn't risk everything without definite proof that Voldemort was back. They weren't stupid. Despite what the _Daily Prophet_ said, Harry and Dumbledore were not crazy liars. Harry was not deluded or attention-seeking and neither was Dumbledore.

"I know where my loyalties are – with the Ministry! And if you all are going to be traitors to the Ministry – I will make sure everyone knows I DO NOT belong to this family!"

"Percy –" Molly's voice wavered as she slowly stood up.

"NO! I will not tolerate this family's views any longer!"

Percy brushed passed his father and stomped upstairs. Arthur was shaking in anger. Molly, who was close to tears, had fallen back into her chair. We could hear Percy a few floors up throwing things and stomping around his room. When he came back down, he was carrying two bags and his Hogwarts trunk was levitating behind him. Without looking at his family, Percy walked through the same way he had come, slamming the door behind him. As the sun set in the distance, I saw Percy trek up the hill, disappearing into thin air. He had not looked back even once.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2: A Grim, Old Place**_

 _It's time._

The note had come from Dumbledore just two days after the Percy incident. Molly had been in a terrible state those two days; crying and stuff. Arthur, who had found out where Percy was staying, tried to convince Molly not to go see their son so soon. It would only end in heartbreak. Percy had slammed the door in his mother's face. This drove her deeper into her depression. But, Molly Weasley, strong and brave Molly Weasley, kept up a smile and unfazed façade for her family. Still, no matter how strong and brave she was, the façade cracked and Molly crumbled. No one dared mention Percy's name. Every time _his_ name was mentioned, Molly cried and Arthur broke whatever he was holding. It seemed as if the Weasley family were well and truly rid of Percy.

But that was another problem for another day. Molly and Arthur were running around the Burrow like crazy, making preparations for some unknown trip. They told us nothing of what was happening or where we were going. Molly just said that the whole family, me included, would be spending the rest of the summer holiday somewhere else.

* * *

When I was in my third year at Hogwarts, my dad, "mass murderer" Sirius Black, broke into the school to protect his godson (and my best friend) Harry Potter. It was believed that my dad had been a supporter of the Dark wizard Voldemort and was the reason Harry's parents were killed. He was also sent to the prison Azkaban for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve No-Maj people that same night. Harry, myself, and our two friends, Ron and Hermione, learned the truth. He was framed. The night we learned of his innocence was the night he promised me that we would be a family again. He told me that Harry and I could live with him in his house. Then, Peter Pettigrew (who had been in his rat Animagus form since that fateful night) escaped and the Dementors caught my dad. Harry and Hermione helped him escape and he had to go into hiding. No one but the people who were there that night in third year knew of Sirius Black's innocence. I had wondered, ever since dad mentioned it, if Harry and I would go live in his house. Being underage, we weren't allowed. Harry was sent back to his awful aunt and uncle's home and I stayed with the Tonks or the Weasley family. With a little coaxing from Arthur, I finally found out where we were going. We were to stay at my dad's childhood home. Boy, was I glad didn't have to live there.

The townhouses of Grimmauld Place in the London Borough of Islington used to be a place of luxury. The well-paved street was lit brightly by brand new light posts which surrounded an immaculate park in the middle of the square. This was a non-magic neighborhood, but a long time ago, one of my ancestors tricked a No-Maj out of his number twelve home and took it for himself. After a few well-placed protection charms, the residents believed that number twelve was accidentally forgotten and time moved on. As the years passed, the whole street fell into disrepair as nicer neighborhoods popped up around London. Grimmauld Square was left untouched, leaving the grass in the park unkempt and brown. The fronts of the houses were grimy and unwelcoming with broken windows, peeling paint, rusted gates, and piles of garbage were left rotting on the yellowed grass of the front lawns.

When my grandmother, Walburga Black, died, my dad inherited the house. He was letting Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore use 12 Grimmauld Place as the headquarters of a secret society called the Order of the Phoenix. Even more charms were set in place to keep the headquarters from curious eyes. Each member had to memorize a sort of password. This phrase would reveal the number twelve townhouse. All you had to do was think the phrase and the front door would appear to you, seemingly pushing houses eleven and thirteen out of the way. Fortunately, the non-magic residents wouldn't feel this happening.

The stone steps leading up the front door were worn and cracked. The door, painted a deep black, had seen better days. It looked like it was about to fall off the hinges and the door knocker's silver serpent was dull and scratched. It was missing a keyhole and a letterbox. When a member of the Order tapped their wand on the door, the series of locks would unlatch and the door would creak open. The long threshold was kept in almost total darkness despite the ornate serpent-shaped chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the gas lamps that lined the walls between crooked portraits. The wallpaper was peeling and the worn carpet gave off a damp rotting smell. Near the front door was a large umbrella stand (possibly made from a severed troll's leg) and not too far from that was a pair of moth-eaten curtains which hid a portrait of my late grandmother.

Further in, through a narrow staircase at the end of the entry hall, was the kitchen. It was a cavern of a room below the ground floor with what once was a very nice wooden floor. At one end of the kitchen, a large fireplace was filled with rusting pots and pans. A large wooden table ran down the center of the kitchen with mismatched chairs bookending it. There were several cabinets lining the walls that held cookware and china and a rather large pantry that held food and other small items. Across from the pantry was a smaller door that served as the bedroom for Kreacher, the Black family house-elf. His room had a small window so he could see into the kitchen when he was called for. Back in the entry hall, there were many doors. Through one door was the large dining room. All of the tables, chairs, dressers, and walls were made of deep mahogany. The dresser that lined the entire back wall held all of the Black family china, silver cutlery, and silk tablecloths and runners. The hanging light fixtures were silver and had snakes running down the cables into the light bowls. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and spider webs.

Back at the end of the entry hall, next to the stairs to the kitchen, was the stairs to the upper floors. This was decorated with a row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on plaques. On the first landing, there were three rooms; a drawing room, a guest bedroom, and a bathroom. The drawing room was a large living area with long windows facing the front of the house. There were two sofas and two sitting chairs facing a fireplace at one end and at the other was a dusty grand piano and writing desk with a wooden chair that was missing a leg. The walls of the drawing room were covered by an enchanted tapestry of the Black Family Tree. The second floor had two guest bedrooms which hadn't been opened since the 1980's. The third floor had another two guest bedrooms and the master bedroom. The topmost landing (which was once an attic) had two bedrooms. These belonged to my dad and his younger brother Regulus. Regulus' room was always locked. No charm or spell could open the door. My dad suspected Kreacher, but he didn't care either way, so the room remained shut off to us. My dad's room, however, was exactly how I imagined a rebellious teen's room would look. While the whole house was colored in deep greens, greys, and blacks, dad's room was decorated in Gryffindor colors and banners supporting the Quidditch team. There were pictures plastered to the wall with a sticking enchantment of bikini-clad women and motorcycles. Above the bed headboard was a moving photograph of the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew had been recently scratched out of the picture.

This house was my dad's ancestral home, and by blood, mine as well. He loathed being there. Because my dad hated 12 Grimmauld Place, I did too. The moment I set foot inside, I thought the place should have been condemned. So much hate and anger hung in the air. It was so stifling that you could choke. I was glad I didn't have to be locked up inside all day and night like my dad and Buckbeak (who had taken up residence in the master bedroom). I don't know how dad survived it for so long. Just like the name suggested, it was a grim, old place.

* * *

It was my godfather, Remus Lupin, who greeted us when we entered. He was looking shabby and pale in the face. His scars seemed deeper and more prominent. The full moon had been a few days earlier. Remus had quietly greeted the Weasley family and I, telling us not to make too much noise in the hall. When Ron asked why, Remus responded that we didn't want to wake anything up. My friend and I shared a stunned look. Remus quickly led us to the back of the hall. As we shuffled along the dusty floor, Ginny screamed. A mouse had scurried from one end of the floor to the other. Ginny was about to apologize, but her words were drowned by an earsplitting screech.

" _Filth! Scum! Dirty blood traitors in my house! Be gone! How dare you befoul the house of my great fathers –_ "

Remus scurried back to the screeching, trying to pull curtains over the noise. My curiosity had gotten the better of me. It was the most unpleasant looking portrait of a woman I had ever seen. She was practically frothing at the mouth and her eyes were wide and murderous. Her face was thin and yellowed from the age of the painting. The Weasley children complained as other portraits began yelling too, filling the hall with screaming.

"Shut up, you old hag," a voice roared.

As I stepped closer, the familiar woman's eyes landed on me. Her face contorted in anger once again. " _You_ ," she screeched even louder than before. I jumped. Remus was still struggling with the curtains that wouldn't close. " _Abomination! Shame of my flesh!_ "

"SHUT – UP!" The voice from before lunged forward and helped Remus wrangle the curtains shut. The woman's screeching died and there was silence in the hall again. The voice had belonged to a tall, thin man. He swept his dark hair out of his face and grinned. "Cora, my dear," my dad greeted warmly. "I see you've met your grandmother."

"My –"

"Grandmother. Yeah," dad winced. He rubbed the back of his neck. "My lovely mother. Think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas. Can't get it down."

We both chuckled. Then I launched myself into his un-expecting arms. I waited for a hug that, for some reason, never came. Instead, I was given a slight rub on the back. Shuffling alerted us to the sound of the Weasley family being herded up the stairs. When I stepped away from my dad, I saw how tired he really looked.

"So – this is your home?"

Dad placed a hand on my shoulder and led me up some steps to the first floor. I saw Ginny rummaging through her trunk in a guest bedroom. But dad led me through an arch that became a drawing room. "It is," his voice echoed a little in the cavernous room. "I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters. It made me feel useful somehow."

I noticed how bitter he sounded. He pulled out his wand and lit a fire in the grand fireplace that had seen better days. I kept myself from grimacing when he flopped down on one of the sofas and a cloud of dust rose in the air. He patted the spot next to him and I joined him in the dust cloud. The silence wasn't exactly uncomfortable as I glanced around the room. There were faces staring at me. I realized they weaved through a network of branches on a tapestry that floated over the back wall. The tapestry looked old and faded; something had probably gnawed at it in places. Gold thread embroidered names and dates under each face that looked a little like me and my dad. They were the faces of the _Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_.

"Had a good summer so far?"

"It's only been a week, but yeah," I smiled shyly, looking away from the faces on the wall. "I can't complain. I have the Weasleys' and now I'm –"

"I didn't want you to come here."

"What," I frowned. "Why?"

"This place holds no happy memories for me," dad sighed heavily. "I promised you a home, Cora. This is not a home; it's a cage."

"But I'm here now. That's all that matters, right? A home doesn't have to be four walls and a roof. A home is where the people you care about are; where your family is."

For the first time, a small grin graced my dad's face. "You sound just like your mother," he said in a dreamy voice.

"Who are all of these people," I asked after another moment of silence.

Dad clicked his tongue. "Well, _I_ wouldn't call them family…"

I looked around the room for his face. I followed each branch but was unable to find his, "I don't see you."

"You wouldn't," he replied. Without looking over his shoulder, dad pointed to a spot on the tapestry that had been blackened. It covered the whole face. "I was there. Your sweet old grandmother blasted me off the tree after I ran away from home. Kreacher – you'll meet the menace – is quite fond of reminding me about that."

"From the way you said all that, I'm not surprised to hear you ran away."

"I had enough," he shrugged. He finally looked over his shoulder to the spot where his young face would have been. His eyes swept around the room the way mine had, taking in each face. "I hated the whole lot of them; my pure-blood maniac parents with their entitled ways…my idiotic younger brother who was too spineless to reject their ways – that's him next to me."

At the bottom of the unfinished tapestry was the face of a teenage boy. My face screwed up in thought as I stood up to get a closer look. I felt like I had seen him somewhere before. His features were sharper than my dad's; his nose more prominent, his hair a bit lackluster. But, according to the tapestry, Regulus Black had died before I was born.

"What happened to him," I asked softly, unsure how my dad would react.

"Stupid idiot," he whispered as he stood by my side. "Joined the Death Eaters."

"He doesn't look like the type," I commented, my nose almost pressed against the old-smelling tapestry. Dad snorted. "Was he killed by an Auror?"

Dad snorted again, "Killed by Voldemort. Or on his orders, I don't know. Regulus was not important enough to be killed by him in person. I didn't find out what happened until after he'd been dead a few months. Got in too far…panicked…tried to back out. You don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort, you know. It's lifetime of service or death."

"You know, I went looking for information on mom's family," dad turned and looked at me fully. There was some sort of sadness in his eyes. "There's nothing on them. They're all gone. But this…" I turned to look at the elaborate Black family tree. "This is the whole of your family. My family. I don't know who any of these people are."

"There's Phineas Nigellus Black," dad nudged me, pointing to a face far up from his own. "Least popular headmaster Hogwarts ever had…that pudgy woman over there is Araminta Melifula – cousin of my mother's – tried to make Muggle-hunting legal through a Ministry Bill…Aunt Elladora who started that wonderful tradition of beheading house-elves. You see, my dear, you don't want to know who these people are."

Dad kept talking about some distant relatives, but I only had my eyes on one. On the same line as my dad and uncle was the face and name of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her face looked young and full; the way she must have looked before getting thrown in Azkaban. Her inky black hair was wildly curly like mine, she had dark shark-like eyes, her nose was pointy and slightly upturned like most of the Black family, and her jawline was sharp. Neville was right. I looked a lot like her.

"I can't believe she's –"

"She is not my family," dad snapped. "None of them are. You shouldn't know relatives like her!"

"I'm sorry," I backed away quickly. "I didn't mean – I don't want to know them! I'm surprised, that's all."

"No, don't apologize," dad muttered. "You just want to know where you come from. There's no fault in that." Dad tapped on the scorched face next to her, gaining my attention again. Between Bellatrix and Narcissa was Andromeda. Her full face and half of her name were completely gone. There was no branch attaching her to Ted or to their daughter; in fact, they were missing completely. It was just like how neither I nor my mother were on the tapestry. "The ones like her – like me – we're the halfway decent types."

I looked from Andi's name to Narcissa's. She was linked to Lucius Malfoy and together they led to Draco. I made a face, "I hate that kid."

Dad laughed out loud, "We are all related somehow. If sons and daughters only marry pure families, the choices are limited. You see, Molly may be your godmother, but we are cousins by marriage. Arthur is a second cousin once removed, or something like that."

"No way," I exclaimed, searching for them on the tapestry.

"No point in looking for them here. If ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors – it's the Weasley clan."

"Well, they are something, aren't they?" Dad had clasped his hands behind his back. I noticed he started bouncing a bit as he looked down at me with a large grin. "What?"

"Speaking of the Weasleys' –" My eyes widened. "You never told me how your date was."

"What date," my voice sounded squeaky.

"Oh no, you aren't getting around this," he smirked. "Harry's told me –"

I suddenly felt angry. I knew my dad wrote to Harry more often than me. I knew he had more to be concerned about with Harry in the Triwizard Tournament last year. But what made me upset was that my dad was getting information about my life from Harry when he knew he could very well write to me personally and ask. I was his blood! I was his only daughter! Didn't that mean something to him?

"I don't see how it's Harry's business to tell you about my love life," I grit my teeth.

"Whoa, just a minute there," dad held up his hands in defense. "I didn't say Harry said anything about a love life. You said that. Harry just told me you had been on a date."

"Oh…" I gulped.

Dad's eyes suddenly narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, "So who is Fred?"

At that moment, Fred stuck his head into the drawing room. A cute grin was plastered on his face. "Mum said to come down for some supper," he told us. Before he disappeared, Fred winked at me…in front of my dad…who looked amused.

"Wait up, Fred," I called, running out to join him in the entry way. I did not want to be in the room when my dad realized that that wink meant something more.

As we started down the stairs, it occurred to me that I had just confirmed to my dad who he was asking about. Dad shouted excitedly after us as he made the connection. I tripped down the rest of the stairs, dust and cobwebs trailing after me.

* * *

As the hot summer dragged on, Molly had us painstakingly cleaning every little part of the old townhouse. Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and I were able to pick up little tidbits about the Order. Members would come and go often, whispering secrets in the ears of other Order members. Fred and George, who had smuggled in a batch of their Extendable Ears, would have us all listen in on member only meetings. These meetings were to discuss things that the adults didn't want us to hear, obviously. Ron and I had caught Dumbledore twice since we had been at 12 Grimmauld Place. Together, we had implored our headmaster to tell Harry where we were and what was happening. As if he were in a rush, Dumbledore brushed our plea aside then made us swear we wouldn't tell Harry anything. Ron and I promised, including Hermione in on the pledge as well, and we hadn't seen or heard from Dumbledore since.

We had been allowed to send Harry short letters, however. Molly had to look over them to make sure there was nothing written about the Order or headquarters. This was all just in case our letters went astray. I despised most of what I wrote to my friend: _"Being kept busy but I can't give you details now…" "So much is happening and I'll tell you when I see you…"_ But when were we going to see him? No one seemed too bothered to tell me or Ron a precise date. When Hermione arrived, we convinced her to try and get the information out of Molly. Obviously she failed at that task because Molly stopped talking to the three of us.

My dad seemed to be the only one who'd spare us the little information we could get. He and I had been getting along splendidly since I arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place. When Molly assigned me a room to clean, dad would sit with me and listen to my tales about my life before Hogwarts and in return he'd tell me stories about his years at the school. I'd never get any cleaning done because I'd become too enraptured by the infamous Marauders. Sometimes, Remus would even add his commentary which led to differing accounts on how certain events happened. There was also the time that dad tried to have me order the family house-elf, Kreacher, around. Since dad's face was blasted off the family tree and I wasn't on it, he wanted to test whether or not the horrible little thing would listen to me. When I tried to get him to bring me lunch, the beast glared at me and walked away, muttering how I was a disgrace to the Black name. I did not get my lunch that day. Kreacher was, however, annoyingly around all the time whenever Fred and I found a moment alone. Since he was of age, Fred would Apparate into whichever room I was in and lock the door. Kreacher would appear a few minutes later. I knew this was my dad's doing. It became a little game that Fred and I found we liked playing; how long could we spend alone without the little beast or an Order member popping their heads in on us.

With summer coming to a close, I thought I wouldn't get to see Harry until we boarded the Hogwarts Express. His letters were getting angrier and shorter from the lack of information on our part. I tried to not let it bother me but it was obvious my friend was in pain. After a few days of silence on his end, I would finally get my wish to see Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3: Harry's Arrival**_

 _My scar hurts. More like prickles uncomfortably. But I doubt you, Ron, Hermione, or Snuffles would care anymore. Why are you together without me? I thought we were family?_ Reading Harry's latest letter hurt. I had no doubt that he had sent the exact same words to Ron and Hermione late last night as well. The black ink seemed to flicker in the soft glow of the fire coming from the kitchen fireplace. The long wooden table was littered with rolls of parchment, empty goblets, a wine bottle or two, and a pile of dirty rags left over from an Order meeting the night before. Mundungus Fletcher was snoozing at the other end of the table, almost falling out of his chair. I tore off a blank piece of parchment to write a note to Harry when Molly and Tonks walked into the kitchen. With a wave of Molly's wand, iron pots and pans flew down from the ceiling and took their places on the stove and in the fire to start dinner.

"Oh, Cora, dear," Molly said. "You startled me. I thought you'd be upstairs with Sirius?" I waved the note from Harry in the air sarcastically. Molly frowned a little. "You know the rules," her voice became stern.

"Yeah, so I've been told many times," I mumbled.

"Oi, it's for Harry's own good," Tonks gently smacked the back of my head. Her short spiky hair was a bright shade of violet today.

"Why don't you help me with dinner since you're here," Molly sighed, changing the subject. The topic of Harry had been pretty strained around Grimmauld Place recently.

"What can I do, Molly," Tonks asked enthusiastically.

Molly and I shared an apprehensive look. "That's alright, Tonks. Cora can help me plenty enough."

"No, no, I'd love to help!" My cousin stepped forward and knocked over a chair. Mundungus jolted awake from the other side of the kitchen. Tonks practically ran around the other side of the kitchen to the dresser where the cutlery was.

Molly flicked her wand again and a series of vegetables and a package of meat flew out of the pantry. A large knife started cutting up the meat while Tonks handed me another so we could chop onions and carrots together. Molly went to work stirring a cauldron over the fire. Arthur and Emmeline Vance stepped into the kitchen just as an ancient looking salt jar sailed passed their heads and into Molly's waiting hand.

"What's for dinner tonight, Molly," Emmeline asked sweetly.

Before Molly could answer, a scream came from upstairs. We weren't bothered by this however, because, in the process of making Grimmauld Place habitable, creepy crawlies and other untouchable things were bound to be found. But what did bother us was the pair of footsteps that came running down the stairs and into the kitchen. Hermione and Ron were pale. Hermione was almost in tears and Ron was clutching his right hand to his chest, a bit of blood was seeping through his fingers.

"HARRY'S BEEN ATTACKED!"

There was a clang as both Tonks and Molly dropped what they were holding. "What did you say," Arthur was suddenly at my friend's side.

"H – Harry's been attacked by dementors," Ron gulped. "He sent us a note. He said he's to be expelled from school!"

"I got one too," dad appeared at the top of the kitchen stairs. He was holding a torn up slip of parchment. His face was almost as white as Hermione's as he approached the kitchen table.

There was suddenly a flurry of activity in the kitchen. Arthur turned to Emmeline telling her to gather any Order members she could find. She rushed out of the kitchen with her wand glowing a light, wispy blue. Tonks was told to send a message to Dumbledore immediately and to go with Emmeline. Arthur grabbed a role of the parchment and began scribbling a note. When Molly started to herd Ron, Hermione, and I out of the kitchen, I saw that the note was in all capital letters. It was addressed to Harry and it said that he must stay at his aunt and uncle's house and to not attempt to do any more magic. My dad sat across from Arthur, a serious look graced his face. He didn't spare me a glance as I was forced to leave the kitchen.

Ginny and the twins were standing on the second floor landing when the three of us were pushed up the stairs by Molly. She shouted for her other children to stay in their rooms as she ushered Ron, Hermione, and myself into the room Ron was staying in. We were not, under any circumstances, to leave this room, she had told us. Ron and I protested, but Molly shut the door hard behind her, leaving the three of us in silence. Hermione was shaking.

"What's going to happen now," Hermione asked in a whisper.

Ron shook his head. "The Order will do something," I said to confirm my own fears. "Dumbledore won't let Harry be expelled. He can't!"

All we could do was wait. Hedwig, who was perched on top of a wardrobe, hooted in dismay. Ron scowled at the snow white owl. Because I couldn't do magic outside of school, I grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and wrapped it around the deep cut on Ron's finger. Hedwig cut him pretty good with her sharp talon. Ron nodded his thanks and looked for some Spello-Tape to keep the tissue in place.

There wasn't much to do as we waited for some kind of news. Hermione was reading our new Charms book (because it was our O.W.L.s year and she wanted to get a head start on studying) while Ron and I started a game of Wizard's Chess with the old set he found under the bed. The silver and dark green pieces didn't seem to want to listen to either of our commands because they kept moving across the board without our say. It seemed like everything in Grimmauld Place refused to take orders from blood-traitors.

After about an hour, we discarded the chess set and decided to play Exploding Snap. Before we had begun, we heard a voice groaning outside the door. "Mudblood, werewolf, traitors, thieves. If my poor mistress knew the scum they let into her house…"

"They must be here," Hermione exclaimed, completely ignoring Kreacher's griping. The doorknob turned slowly and the door creaked open. Hermione threw herself at Harry as soon as our friend was in sight. He smiled as he hugged her back just as hard. When she pulled away, Hermione held Harry at arm's length, looking him over. "Are you alright? You were attacked by a dementor!? You must tell us everything!"

Harry nodded as Ron and I came up on either side of Hermione. "Let the man breathe, Hermione," Ron rolled his eyes. He reached across and shut the door behind Harry. I grabbed Harry's shoulder and pulled him to me. He breathed hard through his nose as I squeezed his middle before letting go.

"They simply can't expel you," Hermione said quickly as she led Harry to one of the beds in the room. "You used magic in a life-threatening situation, there must be provisions in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery – it's completely unfair!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed softly, walking away from Hermione. "There's a lot of that going around at the moment." There was a strained silence as Harry took in the dusty old room. "So what is this place?"

"It's headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix," Ron replied, following Harry's gaze up at the cobwebbed ceiling.

"It's a secret society," Hermione explained. "Dumbledore formed it back when they first fought You-Know-Who."

"You couldn't put any of this in your letters, I suppose? I've gone all summer without a real scrap of news."

Ron, Hermione, and I shared a look. Hermione shifted uncomfortably and Ron couldn't meet Harry's gaze. "We wanted to tell you," I said softly. "Really, we did."

Harry's scowl became darker. "Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you," Hermione suddenly confessed. Harry's face went blank which was worse because he looked emotionless.

"Dumbledore said that? Why would he want me in the dark? Maybe I can help," when we didn't respond, the scowl came back to his face. "Maybe he doesn't think I can be trusted."

"Don't be stupid, Harry," I burst.

"So then how come I had to stay with the Dursleys' while you lot get to join in on everything that's happening here," Harry's voice was growing louder. "How come you're allowed to know things –"

"We don't know anything," Ron interrupted calmly over Harry. "Mum won't let us near a meeting. Says we're too young –"

"BIG DEAL," Harry full on shouted at us. I flinched. "I'M THE ONE WHO SAW VOLDEMORT RETURN – I'M THE ONE WHO FOUGHT HIM, SAW CEDRIC DIGGORY MURDERED! I SHOULD KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!" Ron's mouth fell open, clearly stunned at Harry's angry outburst. Hermione looked like she was going to cry again. "BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW? WHY SHOULD ANYONE EVEN BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON? YOU COULDN'T HAVE WANTED ME TO KNOW THAT MUCH OR YOU WOULD'VE TRIED TO SEND ME INFORMATION! BUT NO! _DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR_ –"

"He did," I tried shouting at Harry. But he kept yelling at us.

"WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK AT PRIVET DRIVE –"

"Harry, I'm telling you –"

"– WHILE YOU'RE BEEN HAVING A LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU? HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER –"

"Harry we're so sorry," Hermione cried desperately.

Harry was breathing hard as he glared at us. Before any of us could say another word, the room was filled with two loud pops. Fred and George had Apparated right on either side of Harry. They both greeted our friend with wide smiles.

"We thought we heard your dulcet tones," George beamed, patting Harry's shoulder.

"You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry," Fred sat down on the bed, winking at me. "Let it all out."

"Passed your Apparation tests, then?"

"With distinction," Fred said.

"It would have taken you thirty seconds longer to walk," Hermione grumbled.

"Time is Galleons, Granger. Anyway, if you're all done shouting –"

"Do you want to hear something a little more interesting," George held up a fleshy Extendable Ear.

"You guys remember the last time you tried that," I crossed my arms, staring at Fred.

"You're cute when you worry," Fred winked again. Harry's head whipped back and forth between us. His eyes lit up as if he just realized something.

"You couldn't have mentioned _that_ in your letters," Harry pointed his thumb at Fred.

Fred stood up and was at my side in two strides. He flung an arm over my shoulder, squeezing me close to his side. "Gonna have to learn to share more of your time with this one, mate," Fred beamed.

"You knew we were together," I rolled my eyes at Harry.

"Yeah, but – I didn't think you'd really be _together_."

"I kinda had other things to worry about last year, Harry," I told my friend, trying to make a point. Harry's involvement in the Triwizard Tournament was a little more important than mine and Fred's budding relationship. Since it had ended, we were able to focus more on us.

The door flew open and Ginny appeared with a bright smile on her face. "Hello, Harry," she smiled sweetly. "I thought I heard your voice." Harry looked embarrassed. She turned to the twins, "Are we a go?"

Harry looked unsure between the twins. I wasn't sure if his anger had fully subsided, but I knew his need for information would overcome his impulse to keep shouting at Ron, Hermione, and myself. When George stood up, he unwound the long string between the two ears. The seven of us quietly crept to the first floor landing right above the doorway to the kitchen where an Order meeting was well underway. As George gripped one ear, he slowly let the second down until we heard the voice of my dad.

" _If anyone has a right to know, it's Harry. If it wasn't for Harry –_ " His voice went muffled and George shook the ear on our end a little. The end of whatever my dad said had sounded clearer than before, which was good for us. We'd be able to hear everything perfectly now.

" _He's not an adult either_ ," Molly argued. " _He's not James, Sirius!_ "

" _Well he's not your son._ "

" _He's as good as,_ " Molly said. From the corner of my eye I saw Harry smile a little. " _Who else has he got?_ "

" _He's got me,_ " my dad responded.

" _How touchingly paternal, Black, when you can hardly even look after your own daughter,_ " we heard Snape sneer. My grip on the bannister began so tight I felt my nails digging into the wood. " _Perhaps both will grow up to be felons._ "

" _My daughter has nothing to do with this meeting. Stay out of this, Snivellus!_ "

"Snape's a part of the Order," Harry asked incredulously.

"Git," Ron rolled his eyes.

"He comes and goes like he owns the place," I whispered to Harry.

" _So why don't you tell him,_ " Snape asked. We tuned back in to the conversation.

" _He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix,_ " Molly continued to argue.

" _He's dealt with more than most in the Order and –_ "

Suddenly, Crookshanks leaped off on the bottom stair, aiming for the Ear. George started shaking the string which only spurred the cat on more. He caught the fleshy appendage in his paw. "Get off," George grunted, trying to pull up the Ear.

"Get it up," Fred elbowed his twin's arm. The Ear made a terrible screeching sound.

Hermione called to her cat, lightly banging on the bannister to try and catch his attention. Crookshanks now had the Ear in his mouth. It was hard to hear what was happening between the purring and screeching noises. George gave one final tug before the cat below used his mouth and paws to rip the Ear from the string. We all stared at the floor as the orange cat dashed off around the corner with his prize.

"Hermione, I hate your cat," Ron grumbled. Hermione groaned as the rest of us chuckled.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4: Dinner with the Order**_

A few moments later, the kitchen door opened. George yanked up the earless string as Molly walked out with a huff. She collected herself and then looked up to see us all around the bannister. Harry didn't spare us another glance as he made his way down the stairs.

"Good," Molly smiled. "You're all here. We'll be eating down in the kitchen."

"Is there anything we can do to help," I asked, following Harry down the dusty steps.

Molly was about to respond when there were two pops and the twins appeared at their mother's side. She threw her hands up in an annoyed rage. Fred and George laughed as Molly smacked them both on the arm, "JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW DOES NOT MEAN YOU HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERYTHING!" The brothers ran off into the kitchen, laughing louder. Ginny walked around her mom as Ron scooted his way into the kitchen, afraid he'd get yelled at next. Rolling my eyes at my friend, I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the smoky kitchen.

It seemed as if Molly had been cooking during the meeting because, when everyone sat down, the food was announced ready. Dad was sitting at the head of the table, looking rather troubled at the newly polished china in front of him. To his left was Arthur, then Remus, I was sitting at his side, followed by Fred and then George (who was pouring flagons of butterbeer for everyone) while Hermione looked down the table next to him. Tonks was across from Hermione, making Ginny giggle uncontrollably as she changed her mouth into different animal mouths. Kingsley Shacklebolt had his back to Ginny as he faced my dad, listening to the conversation he had struck up with Harry. Like the sentinel he was, Moody was standing in the corner of the room drinking his Firewhisky. Snape, who had been at the meeting, disappeared. Lastly, Mundungus, who had just walked back in the kitchen from god knows where, was inspecting the china.

Fred kissed my cheek as he got up to help George with the drinks. My dad smirked at us. Usually parents are wary of their daughter's boyfriend. Not my dad. He seemed rather amused that I chose someone so similar to himself; a troublemaker with little regard to the rules. Dad loved hearing about the mischief Fred and George have gotten into and, in return, I think they admired my dad's miscreant stories as well. When Fred was gone, I twisted my body around to listen to Harry and my dad's conversation. I snorted rather loudly when dad said he'd love to be attacked by dementors.

"Sirius," Mundungus cut dad off. He was examining a goblet rather close to his face as he walked to the end of the long kitchen table. "This solid silver, mate?"

"Yes," dad sneered at the cup. "Fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver. Black family crest is on it somewhere." Mundungus smirked, trying to polish the cup with his dirty cloak sleeve.

"No, just carry them!"

Everyone was startled by Molly's shriek. Fred and George had bewitched the drinks to fly through the air along with one of the heavy breadboards and cutting knives. Everyone ducked out of the way as the butterbeers crashed to the ground, making a sticky mess everywhere, and the sharp knife fell point down right where my dad's hand had been. Molly started shouting again only to be stopped by mine, Harry, and dad's laughter. Mundungus, like the coward he was, had fled under the table so not to get stabbed. Fred's eyes were wide as he profusely apologized to my dad, pulling the knife out of the wooden table. He kept looking between me and my dad with a flushed face. The two of us were still shaking from our laughter.

"Boys," Arthur started calmly, "you must be responsible now that you're of age."

"None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble," Molly raged at her twin sons as she slammed the cauldron of stew on the table, making everything rattle. She was breathing hard, about to continue, but Arthur clapped his hands together.

"Let's eat!"

"Yes, it smells wonderful, Molly," Remus smiled at her from his seat.

It was silent for a few moments as the roast and potatoes stew was ladled out to everyone. Not very long after everyone tucked in, a few quiet conversations broke out. Fred was still sulking next to me as he took a rather large gulp of his butterbeer. I elbowed him.

"Don't be upset," I murmured, placing my chin on his shoulder. "He still likes you."

Fred didn't respond. He just tapped his head against mine gently and went back to his food. I sighed. Molly was comparing Fred and George to their older brothers more and more. It was always _"Bill didn't do this…"_ and _"Charlie never did that…"_ When she got to Percy, however, Molly would stop herself and look at her boys firmly. Fred had told me why he thought his mom was so harsh with them; her own brothers were pranksters. Fabian and Gideon Prewitt were twins and also found it pleasurable to disregard the rules. They were killed during the last war. It was something Molly hadn't really ever gotten over. But that didn't mean she had to be so harsh with her sons.

More quiet conversations continued as we all helped ourselves to Molly's custard and rhubarb crumble. When I had had my fill, I rested my head on Fred's shoulder, closing my eyes for a bit. I smiled when he placed a comforting hand on my knee, drawing circles with his thumb. A few of the old chairs creaked as their occupants leaned back in relaxation.

"This is very, very peculiar," Arthur exclaimed. When I opened my eyes, Arthur was looking at a letter Harry had received from the Ministry, "It seems that your hearing at the Ministry on the twelfth of August is to be in front of the entire Wizengamot."

"I don't understand," Harry said to Arthur and my dad. "What has the Ministry of Magic got against me?"

Remus and Kingsley looked as if they wanted to say something. Moody, standing away from the group again, growled, "Show him."

Molly angrily slammed a goblet on the table. "Harry deserves to know what's happening – from us, rather than others," Remus said quickly.

When Harry looked back at us, no one was able to look him in the face. I silently agreed with my godfather on the matter. Harry had no idea what was being said about him. It was silent as Kingsley pulled a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ out of his robes. Harry's face fell. He was no doubt looking at a photograph of himself from last year in the tournament. The bold headline called him _The Boy Who Lies_.

"What's this rubbish," Harry grunted through clenched teeth.

"Rita Skeeter has written that you are a deluded, attention-seeking young man," Remus breathed deeply, folding his arms over the table. "She – and many as well – call you a tragic hero."

"There are those at the Ministry who are trying to turn you into a joke," Tonks leaned over Ginny. Moody threw her an awful glare.

"They haven't reported the dementor attack, of course. Or how you broke the International Statue of Secrecy," Arthur tried to make light of this terrible situation Harry was in.

"They are dragging Dumbledore as well," my dad stated calmly. I noticed Harry's hands were shaking a little as he looked away from the paper. Fudge is using all his power – especially his influence with the Daily Prophet – to smear anyone who claims that the Dark Lord has returned."

Fred's hand had stilled on my knee and was now in a fist. I knew he was thinking about the conversation his father and Percy had had at the beginning of the summer. Things were getting worse and worse out in the world as the days went on. Most people believed anything the Minister told them. So, if the Dark Lord hadn't returned, then there was nothing to fear. Above all, Fudge coveted his job and the power it gave him. He was afraid Dumbledore would take his job. One could argue that Fudge wasn't in his right mind after the events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. His fear and his position made him dangerous to everyone.

"The last time Voldemort came to power –" there was a collective uncomfortable shuffle among the younger Weasleys' and Hermione. "– He almost destroyed everything we hold most dear –" As Remus continued to explain to Harry what was happening, I looked down the table at my dad. He was staring at his lap with a dark look on his face. If anyone in the room had what they loved most destroyed it was Sirius Black. His friend ratted out his best friend and was murdered along with his wife. He was thrown into Azkaban for twelve years for crimes he did not commit. His wife was murdered and his only child was sent away. But, he was still here. He was fighting. My dad was one of the strongest men I knew and I loved him so much for it.

"Stop," Molly shouted. "This is not a conversation for their ears!"

"You can't stop them, Molly," Arthur sighed. "Fred and George are of legal age –"

The twins nodded. Molly crossed her arms, "Then they can stay. But Ron –"

"Harry will just tell me, Hermione, and Cora everything! Right," Ron stared Harry down. For a second, I thought Harry wasn't going to respond, letting Molly take us all upstairs. Then he nodded sloppily, saying he'd tell us anything we'd ask. Ron beamed.

"Even so," dad cleared his throat. He laced his fingers together and glanced at a red-faced Molly. "I want _my daughter_ to know what is happening. She stays."

"Fine," Molly shouted. Then she turned on her youngest. Ginny did not go quietly, however. She argued and then stormed away when she realized she was fighting a losing battle.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Harry said, "Tell me what is going on."

"We think Voldemort wants to start his army up again," dad explained, looking right at Harry. "Fourteen years ago, he had huge numbers at his command, and not just witches and wizards, but all manner of dark creatures. He's been recruiting heavily and we've been attempting to do the same. But, gathering followers isn't the only thing he's interested in."

"Sirius," Moody growled softly. It gave me the impression that he was warning my dad not to say anything further.

My dad, not one to listen, continued, "We believe Voldemort may be after something."

"Sirius," Moody growled louder this time. My dad and my godfather exchanged a small glance before they both sighed deeply.

"It's something he didn't have last time," dad's voice was so soft that I almost didn't hear him.

"You mean, like a weapon," Harry asked in confusion.

"That's enough," Molly spoke. This time she came around behind Harry and took the paper away from him. "You say much more and you might as well induct him to the Order."

"Good," Harry said loudly. "If Voldemort is starting an army then I want to fight!"

Dad leaned back in his chair with a triumphant grin towards Molly. He winked at Harry. "Enough," Molly shook her head as she tried to pull Harry's chair out. "To bed. Now. All six of you."

"You can't boss us around," Fred argued.

Molly snarled at her son. It was Remus, not Molly who spoke though, "The Order is for overage wizards only – once they have left school, mind you." I watched as the twins opened their mouths to retort. "But, Molly is right, Sirius," he said, ignoring them. "We have said enough."

My dad just shrugged, raising his hands as if to say he would not argue. Molly cleared her throat and motioned for us _children_ to leave. Ron and Hermione were the first to leave the kitchen, followed by the twins. Harry, who was standing, stared at my dad with a small frown. He soon followed the others. I briefly watched as my dad's eyes followed Harry out of the kitchen. As I began to leave, his grey eyes found mine. His tight-lipped smile did not reach his ears like it usually did.

Molly gently placed a hand on my shoulder and led me out of the kitchen. When we were on the upstairs landing, the others were waiting around. She sternly told us all to get to bed and mentioned to Hermione and I that Ginny should be asleep. I scoffed. The youngest Weasley was probably waiting for me and Hermione to tell her everything that was said. Ron and Harry went up the next flight of stairs as Hermione snuck into our room. George ruffled my hair as he passed by me to head up the stairs as well.

"Night, love," Fred muttered, his hand cupped my cheek as he kissed me softly.

"Fred? I'm going to tell you this now – so you know I'm serious."

"Uh-oh," Fred laughed softly.

"When you do join the Order, don't do anything stupid, or I'll kill you myself."

Fred let out too loud of a laugh as I patted his cheek and slipped into my room. From behind the closed door I heard Molly shouting and Fred's footsteps scampering up the staircase.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5: Cleaning House**_

After breakfast the next morning, I found myself in the drawing room with the Weasley kids, Hermione, and Harry. We were all still rubbing the sleep from our eyes as Molly handed us each cloths to tie over our noses and mouths. Then she filled spray bottles with some sort of black liquid and gave us all one. Ginny held the bottle away from her body, looking at it in utter disgust. The room was infested with doxies, something I didn't notice when I first spent time in the room with my dad.

"I don't know what that house-elf has been doing the last ten years," Molly shook her head.

"Kreacher's really old, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione was glaring at Molly under her mask. "He probably couldn't –"

"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can and cannot do, Hermione," my dad entered the room. Harry's eyes lit up at his appearance. "Molly, that writing desk definitely has a boggart in it. Let Mad-Eye take a look at it. It could be something much worse."

"Yes, of course," Molly agreed. The tones of their voices were light, unlike the night before when they had been hard with each other.

From downstairs, the doorbell rang loudly. The screams of my grandmother bounced off the walls. My dad rushed away, leaving all of us to cringe at the horrible things Walburga Black was screeching about Muggle-borns. Molly, who had been looking over a book on the couch, had us all stand in a line in front of the shaking curtains. Doxies have a poisonous bite so she assured us that she had an antidote. An antidote she mixed up from _Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests_. So, basically, we were doomed.

I had only sprayed a few baby doxies when a large one came flying out from behind the curtains. It looked like a fairy with large shiny wings, tiny sharp teeth, thick black fur, and four tiny fist-like appendages. I pointed my spray bottle at it, but the doxy dodged the blast. I gave a tiny yelp as it swooped towards my head. There was a spraying sound from behind me and the fully-grown doxy froze and then fell to the ground.

"Watch it," George chuckled from under his cloth. His free hand was closed in a fist. When I noticed this, he put his hand in his pocket and then pulled the cloth from his mouth. He grinned and said lowly, "Fred and I want to experiment with doxy venom for our Skiving Snackboxes."

"But those are making you sick," I exclaimed a little too loudly.

George shushed me and turned to see if his mother was watching us. She was standing in the corner looking through Lockhart's fake book. "That's the point, Cora. Sweets that make you ill so you can get out of classes. Brilliant, right? Half makes you sick, half makes you well again. Fred's come up with that bit."

I looked over to where my boyfriend was helping Ginny with a pair of curtains. They were laughing, pointing their spray bottles at the doxies as if playing a shooting gallery game. Fred had told me about the Skiving Snackboxes when I found him pale on the bathroom floor a week ago. He'd been so sick that he couldn't stand up. Between his retching, he was able to tell me about Puking Pastilles; an orange and purple sweet. You'd eat one side to get sick and then the other to make yourself well. Only, Fred was having trouble stopping puking long enough to swallow the side to make you better. I had to shove it down his throat. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

The de-doxying took all morning. The curtains were now safe to touch with all the doxies and their eggs collected in a large bucket. Our next project included dusting, washing, de-doxing, and filing through the cabinets on either side of the bookshelf. You could hardly see through the glass fronts with all the grime on it. Inside was just the same and crammed with all kinds of objects. Molly had told us not to touch anything just in case some of the objects were cursed. From what I had learned about my dad's family, I wouldn't put it past them.

When Molly had left to grab us lunch, the doorbell rang. Her shrieks, mixed with the portrait of Walburga Black's. Kreacher slipped into the room before any of us could leave. The old house-elf took no notice of us as he shuffled about, muttering in his deep voice about criminals and blood traitor brats.

"Well, hello there, Kreacher," Fred called loudly.

The house-elf was clearly startled, stopping and turning around with wide eyes. He bobbed his head, "Kreacher did not see the Young Master Wizard. Nasty blood traitor brat…"

"What did you just say," I stepped forward, challenging the mean old house-elf.

"Kreacher did not say anything, Young Mistress," he turned away, muttering again. My fists were clenched in anger. I took another step forward but Fred pulled me back.

His arms wrapped around my waist as his mouth dropped to my ear, "He's not worth it. Leave him be."

"I won't stand for that _thing_ making rude comments about my friends and family," I huffed.

"That _thing_ has a name, Cora," Hermione narrowed her eyes at me. "Kreacher is just saying what he knows, right?"

No one replied because Kreacher had started up again, "Mudblood! Bold, brass, Mudblood, in my Mistress's house. What would Mistress say – blood traitors, criminals, werewolves, Mudbloods – dirty, filthy –"

"Stop it," I shouted at the house-elf. I had wormed my way out of Fred's arms and I was now standing in front of the hunched being who only had eyes for the worn carpet.

"He's not in his right mind," Hermione said slowly. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, yes it does matter! Kreacher, I command you to stop calling Hermione a Mudblood!"

Kreacher's eyes narrowed, "Kreacher does not take orders from Master's brat. Master's brat is not on the tapestry of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black!"

"Well, 'Master's brat' can get him to order you to stop!"

Kreacher then bowed low, his nostrils flared, "I live to serve the House of Black." I turned to Hermione with a smirk on my face. Kreacher began to leave the drawing room. But, before he did, we all heard him mutter, "Master's brat is not a Black. Never will be a Black."

* * *

Molly had us cleaning harder than she had before over the next few days. The drawing room, aside from the Black family tapestry and whatever was in the writing desk, was all cleaned up and decontaminated. It almost looked rather livable. The dining room on the ground floor was our next project. Ron, who discovered big-ass spiders in the dressers, refused to help us. It took three days to clean that room out even though Molly roped my dad into helping us. It was supposed to be up to him what was to be kept or discarded. Dad had no qualms throwing everything into a sack; fancy china, silverware, old photos in real silver frames…nothing was safe.

It didn't help that Kreacher was removing whatever he could from the sacks. Even his language was becoming more and more offensive. Dad was livid when he caught the house-elf muttering horrible things about Harry. He threatened to give Kreacher clothes and kick him out the door. Kreacher looked like he was going to cry as he clutched a ring with the family crest on it to his chest. It was the only time I had ever felt bad for the house-elf.

By August, half of the house was deemed livable by Molly's standards: the ghoul in the upstairs bathroom had been expelled by Tonks and the twins, Remus fixed the grandfather clock that had begun shooting heavy bolts at anyone who stayed in firing distance for too long, and Mundungus even saved Ron from being strangled by robes (long story). But all too soon, it was time for Harry's hearing. Molly had made a simple dinner the night before and sent us all up to bed at eight that night. We each took our turns wishing Harry luck. But I thought it would take more than luck to get him out of his situation. Maybe, just maybe, someone would be on his side.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6: Ickle Prefects**_

"How do you always get away with stuff," Ron questioned Harry as he recounted the events of his hearing to everyone that afternoon in the kitchen.

The twins and Ginny began dancing around and chanting at the top of their lungs "HE GOT OFF" to the irritation of their mother. My anxiety subsided with one deep exhale. I felt like I had been holding my breath all day. I knew there wasn't enough set against Harry, but it still seemed like many in the Ministry _wanted_ Harry to be punished. It disgusted me. Ron was happily filling his plate as he made a joke about the dud investigation. Harry, who I had been watching, clapped his hand to his forehead and rubbed it harshly.

"Are you okay," Hermione asked in alarm.

"HE GOT OFF! HE GOT OFF!"

"It's just my scar," Harry said. No one had noticed anything off. The twins and Ginny were still chanting (which was now getting on my nerves) and everyone else was digging in to Molly's cooking. As always, no one noticed a thing.

Harry's hand fell into his lap as Molly placed a hand on his shoulders, putting a very full plate in front of him. "Tuck in," Molly smiled.

"HE GOT OFF! HE GOT OFF! HE GOT –"

Molly raised her fists at her children, "SHUT UP!"

Like deer caught in the headlights, the three froze, staring at their mother. Then, with large grins, the siblings ran out of the kitchen, laughing.

* * *

As the days went on, our leaving for Hogwarts seemed right around the corner. We were all anxious to get away from Grimmauld Place, even if that meant being at school. Even the adults seemed ready for us to leave. But the only person who blatantly did not want us to go back was my dad. I knew he was overjoyed that Harry had not been expelled, but he also became more of a recluse since hearing the good news. Dad shut himself up in his parents' old room with only Buckbeak for company. I mean, I couldn't blame him. It was boring as hell. You'd think that living in a secret headquarters would be more exciting. The only excitement that we got was eavesdropping when Order members would stop by and whisper secrets to each other.

Then, the big excitement we'd been waiting for finally happened when our Hogwarts letters arrived. Hermione and I were packing our trunks in our shared room when Ginny burst through, large smile on her face. She handed us our envelopes before tearing into hers.

"Finally," Hermione sighed. "I thought they'd never come!"

"I've got four new books," Ginny sighed, dropping to the bed closest to her. " _Defensive Magical Theory_?"

I frowned, "By Wilbert Slinkhard? We've got that one too. Doesn't every year have different books?"

Ginny shrugged, "Maybe Dumbledore's found a new Defense teacher? That's the only explanation I can think of. It must have taken him longer to find someone to take the job."

"Girl, tell me about it. One died, one lost his mind, one was fired, and one was locked in a trunk and impersonated. I wouldn't take the job after that. It's cursed, I swear. What do you think, Hermione?"

Hermione, who had been silent since opening her letter, looked up at us. Her eyes were wide and sparkling with glee. In one hand were three slips of paper; one with the book list, one with our train ticket, and a third letter neither Ginny nor I had received. In her other hand was a small scarlet and gold pin with a large P overlaid on a lion.

"Prefect, huh? No surprise there. Congrats, Hermione," Ginny grinned. Hermione's chest started to heave in excitement.

"Ditto. I can tell this means a lot to you," I laughed heartily. Before I could suggest going over to tell the boys, Hermione let out an un-Hermione like squeal and tore out of the room. I snorted and shook my head at my friend as I followed her to the boys' room.

Their door had slammed open and I followed my friend as she ran inside, hair flying everywhere. Ron was sitting on the bed with a confused look on his face. Fred and George were on either side of Harry who was holding something in his hand. "Did you get –" Hermione stopped when she saw the prefect pin. She squealed again, holding up her letter and pin, "Me too, Harry! Oh, I knew it!"

Harry shook his head vigorously. He turned and dropped the pin into Ron's hand. I was shocked when Ron closed his fist around the pin, picking up a letter from behind him and reading it. _Ron?_ Ron was the other Gryffindor Prefect?! That – I mean it was just –

"Unexpected," George said in response to Hermione's sputtering.

"No," Hermione's face turned red, "It's not! Ron has done loads of great – well he's –"

The door, which had slowly shut after Hermione rushed in, opened again. We all turned to see Molly walking in with a basket full of robes. I moved over behind Fred, wrapping my arms around his stomach and rested my cheek against his back. Molly took the spot I had previously been standing in and saw all of the letters. She said something about Ginny and books as she went over to the bed, put down the basket and started folding robes. None of us had moved.

Molly started talking again as she sorted and folded, "If you all give me your letters I'll nip off to Diagon Alley and collect your things. Ron, you're growing so fast! I'll have to get you new pajamas since yours are too short."

"How about red and gold," George smirked.

"It'll match his badge," my head vibrated as Fred chuckled. Molly hummed, now folding socks. "His _badge_ ," Fred pressed, "his _prefect's badge_ …"

Molly stopped cold. She narrowed her eyes at Fred, obviously about to tell him off for such a joke against his brother. But when Ron timidly held up the small pin, Molly's eyes widened and she shrieked. She stood up and threw her arms around her son.

"Oh, Ron! Oh, how wonderful! Prefect! That's everyone in the family!"

"Oi," George crossed his arms, frowning at him mom. "What are Fred and I? Next-door Neighbors?"

"I'm so thrilled! Just thrilled," Molly went on, ignoring George. "Oh, Ronnie!"

Fred huffed, "Ickle Ronnie, the perfect prefect…" I gently squeezed Fred's middle. He placed his hands on mine and gave a small squeeze back.

When Ron was able to push Molly off of him, her face was red and blotchy. She told Ron that, since the others got a reward when they were prefects, Ron needed one too. She suggested an owl, a cauldron, a new rat, or even new dress robes. At this, Fred scowled. He and George, pitying their little brother, bought him new, proper dress robes with some of their new fortune thanks to their joke products. But, Ron wanted a new broom. So, with a sloppy kiss, Molly grabbed her basket and ran out of the room to head off to Diagon Alley.

As soon as they were sure she was gone, the twins started throwing joke after joke at Ron's situation. My friend's face went as red as his mother's as he tried to get his brothers to stop teasing him. "Going to put us in detention," Fred grinned wickedly.

"He can try," George responded.

"He could if you two aren't careful," Hermione defended Ron. The twins laughed.

Fred glanced at his twin, "Guess we'll have to watch our backs with these two…"

"Our law-breaking days may be over!"

I rolled my eyes, removing my arms from around Fred and came around to his side. "Guys, leave them alone," I said through my smirk.

"As my heart commands," Fred bowed his head comically low. Then Fred and George Disapparated.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione huffed. From upstairs, Fred and George were laughing loudly. She looked up and shouted loud enough so they could hear, "They're just jealous!"

Ron shook his head sadly. His mood shifted and he sat up straighter, mentioning something about Molly getting the right kind of broom. He bolted out of the room. Hermione, who was buzzing with excitement, asked Harry if she could borrow Hedwig to deliver the good news to her parents. With a nod from him, she was gone too. Above us, the twins were still making a racket. I sighed heavily. Harry had started to look more and more distraught as the seconds ticked on.

"Harry –"

"Yeah, just go," he said, turning towards the bed. He picked up some of his socks and tossed them in his trunk.

"You don't even –"

"Cora, you and I both know you're going up the stairs to be with Fred. So go." I shook my head at my friend. I was annoyed that he wanted me to leave him alone when he was so obviously upset. But fine. Whatever. Let him whine and sulk. I did exactly what he suggested I do and went upstairs.

As I trudged up the stairs, George was coming down in a hurry. When he passed me, George sent me an over exaggerated wink and chuckled, disappearing down the next flight. When I reached their room, the door was slightly ajar. The floorboards creaked as I crossed over them. Fred, who had been lounging in one of the beds, looked up. He grinned as I kicked off my shoes when I got closer to the bed. Fred shifted over and lifted up the old duvet so I could slip in.

"She gone," Fred asked.

"Yup," I replied.

"Finally," Fred stretched one arm around my shoulders and the other rested on my hip as I snuggled closer to his body. "Alone at last!"

"We've been alone," I hummed. Fred's fingers started twirling around my hair.

"Oh please. Mum is always hovering around us, or haven't you noticed?"

I had noticed. Molly started hovering around Fred and I to make up for the lack of interest dad had in my relationship. Yes, he cared and expressed his concern, but he said he trusted me to be responsible and make the right choices. Plus, it's not like I could just tell _him_ the specifics of mine and Fred's relationship. And I couldn't very well tell Molly either because she'd have a heart attack if she found out the things Fred and I had done.

Smiling up at Fred, I leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. I almost jolted when I felt his hand brush the top on my thigh over my jeans. A wicked smile replaced his sweet grin. His middle and forefinger traced circles across my leg until they came to the inside of my thigh, sliding up to the waistband of my jeans. My own hands rested on the front of his waistband. He breathed heavily through his nose as I slid one hand down the front of his jeans, teasing him. With a grunt, Fred had rolled over, trapping me beneath him with his strong Quidditch arms.

"You're a tease, Coralynn," Fred whispered in my ear. I tilted my head to the side, giving Fred full exposure of my neck. I gasped as he kissed my collar bone, dragging his lips up my neck. He gently bit the flesh under my ear; his favorite spot. "But I love that about you."

I closed my eyes, pretending I had heard only half of that sentence. I wanted to hear him say it. For me, it was always there, bubbling under my self-consciousness and fear of rejection. That first kiss we shared at the Yule Ball last year brought something out in me. Every doubt I had about myself went away and, at first, I hated Fred for making me feel that way because it scared me. And Fred, well, he knew before I did that there was something there, that there _could_ be something between us.

"Oh, the things I could do to you right now," Fred growled. Excitement surged through my body. Fred bit my neck a little too hard and I thrust my hips up in protest. That spurred him on more.

"Fred you'll leave a mark," I objected with a pout.

"You aren't the only one who can mark their territory, love."

"You like it," I narrowed my eyes playfully. Fred's amber eyes glittered with amusement. He gently kissed me and rolled back over, wrapping his arms around my body. I yawned, "Time for a nap. Be here when I wake up?"

Fred tightened his arms around me, "Merlin himself couldn't make me leave you."

* * *

Molly came back from shopping around six. Only a short while later she had the kitchen table filled with food and had hung a banner to congratulate Ron and Hermione. She was in a better mood than she'd been in all summer. Molly's small party was a hit with the adults; wine and butterbeer flowed heavily. Fred, however, was still not impressed with the attention Ron was receiving. But he still raised his glass high during the toast. The conversations were loud and animated as everyone had their fill of Molly's cooking. At one point, I saw Ron's face go pale when Moody told him that authority figures attracted trouble and that he must have been able to withstand deadly jinxes if Dumbledore gave him this job. Ginny and I giggled at Ron's discomfort. Tonks spoke fondly about how she was never a prefect in school. She was never well-behaved enough for the position. When it was asked if my dad was ever a prefect, Remus choked on his wine. My dad laughed, saying he spent too much time in detention. It was Remus who had gotten the honor. I smiled at my dad as he recalled fond memories with my godfather. The two entertained Ginny, Hermione, Tonks, and I with anecdotes of their youth. It was nice to see them so happy.

As the party slowed down, everyone started to move around. As I was listening to Arthur complain about Bill's hair, I saw Fred and George sneak away with Mundungus. Harry followed the three and was welcomed into their little circle. It occurred to me that I should have been uneasy about the group. As much as I supported Fred and George in their pursuits, Mundungus was a shady character and was likely selling the twins some disagreeable item. I didn't want to break Fred's trust by going to Molly and I didn't want to disappoint Molly by not tattling on Fred. Arthur grabbed my attention back when he said my name, asking me what I thought about Bill's hair. I excused myself from the conversation when I saw the four break away. Fred and George left the kitchen as Mundungus milled around, probably looking for more valuables to steal. Harry approached me.

"Seen Ron or Hermione?" I looked around the kitchen. Many had left already, including Ron and Hermione. I shook my head. Harry yawned, "Then I'm going off to bed."

"I'll come with," I said, catching the yawn. We bid Bill and Arthur a goodnight and headed up to our rooms.

We didn't speak as we slowly walked up the first flight of stairs. Before we reached the landing, we heard soft sobbing coming from the drawing room. We exchanged curious glances and hurried into the room. Sticking our heads in, I first noticed how dark the room was, but there was a light from someone's wand shaking in the far corner of the room. The light perfectly lit up the face of someone laying on the ground. It was Ron. His eyes were wide and glassy. He was dead. I heard Harry make a noise like someone had just kicked him in the stomach. My own breath escaped my lungs as a cold chill overtook my body. Harry stumbled into the room towards the body and trembling figure. Molly was sobbing harder.

" _R-r-riddikulus!_ "

The boggart made a cracking sound and I watched as its arms, legs, torso, and hair stretched. Bill's eyes, empty and dead, replaced Ron's. Molly sobbed harder. She cast the spell once more and the boggart turned into Arthur with shattered glasses and blood bubbling out of his open mouth. Harry and I stood helpless in front of the boggart as Molly moaned in pain, clutching her head. She bawled out the spell again and again as the boggart turned into each of her family members. It was only when Harry saw his own dead body when he shouted out.

"Get out of here! Let someone else –"

The body changed again and Fred was lying on his back. His eyes were as wide as the grin on his face. Blood was pouring out of his left ear and trickled out of his mouth. I covered my mouth and held in my own scream as Molly fell to her knees, inconsolable.

Suddenly, Remus, Moody, and my dad burst into the drawing room. Remus did not hesitate when he saw Fred's body and Molly's shaking form on the ground. He pulled out his wand and clearly said, " _Riddikulus!_ "

Once the boggart was gone, Molly hid her face, crying harder. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry."

I rushed to my godmother and wrapped my arms around her. A few tears fell from my eyes. "It's going to be okay, Molly," I rubbed her back as she cried. "It was just a boggart."

"It's not just that," she wailed into my shoulder. "I see them dead all the time! I see y-y-you and Harry d-d-dead! It's in my dreams…"

I stared at the spot on the ground where Fred had been. I couldn't get the glazed over amber eyes out of my mind. He had been dead, but smiling. The stupid boggart really wanted to do some damage. It was hard to close my eyes without seeing his image dead on the floor. It was in that moment that I decided that I had to make the move and tell Fred how I really felt about him. If I didn't, well, it could be too late.


	7. Chapter 7

Pamela Hutchins: Thank you for your review! Honestly, I'd nearly given up on this story due to lack of readers and interest. I haven't forgotten about ItR. But maybe it's time to bring this story out of a nearly 7 month long hiatus lol.

A/N: Okay, things are going to get a little steamy in the last bit of this chapter and moving forwards. You know how teenagers can be. Hogwarts students were getting' it. Don't me.

* * *

 _ **Chapter 7: Off to School**_

The house was in a frenzy the next morning. None of the boys got up when they were supposed to. Hermione and I already had our things packed and ready at the door when Ginny came out of our room, dragging her trunk behind her. There was suddenly a loud crashing and a scream. Two trunks marked F.W. and G.W. landed on the floor with a deafening crash followed by Ginny. Dearest Grandmother Black began screeching. Molly and Arthur hurried over to their daughter. When Hermione, dad, and I looked up the stairs, we saw the twins running down the stairs, winded. They had bewitched their trunks to fly down the stairs instead of having to carry them down. The heavy trunks crashed right into Ginny and shoved her down the stairs. Dad turned to tug the curtains back over his mother's portrait as Molly screamed at her sons. The sounds were giving me a headache.

"GET DOWN HERE NOW," Molly somehow shouted over Walburga Black's voice. Dad had given up on the curtains. She was bound to start screaming again anyway. Harry and Ron could be heard coming down the stairs, their trunks thumping down behind them. "Finally," Molly crossed her arms over her chest, "Harry will be coming with me and Tonks. Everyone else will be together…." Walburga Black's screaming had not ceased and Molly's patience was wearing thin. She was about to say more when something wet hit my hand. I looked down and saw Snuffles, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. I bent down and scratched between his ears. "Oh, Sirius! Dumbledore said no," Molly scolded him.

With a bark, Molly caved. She pulled the front door open and she, my cousin, Harry, and Snuffles disappeared into the foggy morning. Remus came up behind the rest of our group from the kitchen with Arthur. The two seemed to be in good spirits as Ginny followed, glowering at her older brothers. She went off with Ron, Hermione, and Arthur which left me and the twins to follow Remus. Once the door to 12 Grimmauld Place shut and Walburga Black's screeching was cut off from my ears, I felt much better. Up ahead, I saw Snuffles running around, chasing pigeons and sniffing the free air. I hadn't seen him this happy in a long time. He'd been trapped in that horrible house for too long.

* * *

The whole twenty minute walk to King's Cross, I was contemplating how I could tell Fred that I loved him. I could do the sappy thing and do it on a romantic date and – no – that was too cheesy and girly for me. I could just blurt it out? The two of us were casually leaning against the barrier between the platforms waiting for a clear moment to step through. Fred had me close to his side, his chin resting on the top of my head. I looked up at him, making Fred remove his chin and stare down at me. I took a deep breath, about to say how I felt when he kissed me sweetly, stepping back into the barrier. I broke the kiss when I heard the whistle of the Hogwarts Express. Grinning widely, I took Fred's hand and we searched for the others.

"Excited for your last year," I asked casually.

Fred squeezed my hand, "Got big plans, as you already know."

"Oh, sure. I know your joke shop will be a big hit with the students. I don't know when you'll have time for me Mr. Big Businessman," I joked.

To my surprise, Fred stopped walking. He took both of my hands in his, "We're going to find time for each other. I promise you. We'll spend more time together before I leave."

My heart nearly stopped in my chest and then I found myself saying, "Fred, I lo –"

"There you two are!"

Molly rushed passed us and ushered us to the others. Remus and Moody were already saying their goodbyes when Tonks threw her arms around me. Her hair was curly black today. "I miss you already, cuz. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she laughed, looking towards Fred who was shaking my godfather's hand.

"And exactly what wouldn't you do," I teased Tonks, pulling on one of her curls.

"Oh, you know, run off with the love of my life and get knocked up. The usual."

She thumped me on the back and walked away, leaving me stunned. Tonks embraced Hermione and Ginny as my godfather approached me. I hugged Remus who said firmly, "Take care of yourself. O.W.L.s are nothing to slack off on. But I know you'll come out on top."

"Thanks Remus," I smiled fondly.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a blue rectangular pouch. I took the Razzles candy with wide eyes. "Snuffles wanted me to give that to you. I told him they're your favorite." I looked around the group but I could not see the black dog. Harry was missing as well. The last warning whistle sounded and students hurried towards the train. "I know things have been, well, off, since Harry's arrival. But he really does care, you know," Remus sighed. "Snuffles loves you very much. We all do."

"I love him too," I breathed, starting off towards the train. Harry had reappeared next to Molly who was fussing over his hair and hugging him. A big black dog pushed itself between their legs. It jumped up, placing its front paws on Harry's shoulders. Molly looked properly annoyed. When I was at their side, Snuffles jumped down from Harry and nuzzled his head against my leg. I knelt down to eye level with him. Snuffles whined. "We'll see each other soon," I reassured him. The train's engine roared. I threw my arms around Snuffles' neck and whispered into his floppy ear, "I love you, dad."

With a sloppy lick on the cheek, Snuffles barked as Molly pushed me into the train. The door closed behind me and I waved as the train finally started moving. Snuffles bounded along the track, barking wildly as Harry waved to him from the window next to me. Hermione, who was standing behind me, expressed her uneasiness about my dad being on the platform. I just smiled. He hadn't seen proper daylight in months. This little trip was good for him, I could tell.

"Well," Fred rubbed his hands together, breaking the small moment of silence.

"We've got things to discuss with Lee," George smiled wickedly. "See you lot later."

Fred tapped my nose, winking, "And I'll find you when we're done."

The two disappeared down the hall as the train began to gain more speed out of the city. My three friends and I each placed a hand on the wall behind us to keep steady. "Shall we find a compartment, then," Harry looked at us all.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. Ron rubbed the back of his neck, his face slightly red. "Well – we have to go to the prefects' carriage," Hermione told us slowly.

I noticed that Ron couldn't look at Harry. He had found something interesting about the floor as Hermione went on about the instructions they got in their letters. Harry, who was getting much better at masking his feelings, looked indifferent when she explained that they would have to spend the first half of the journey without us. Ron kept fidgeting. We said our farewells for the time being and Hermione dragged Ron off.

Ginny led us down the crowed corridor until we came to the last carriage. Neville met us at the sliding door. He greeted us with a small smile, saying that everywhere else was full. But Ginny pushed open the doors to reveal a young blonde with pleasant blue eyes. She was reading a magazine upside down. Harry and Neville courteously placed our trunks in the storage area above as Ginny and I took seats across from the curious girl.

Luna Lovegood. I had heard about this Ravenclaw; she was supposedly – well – loony. After our introductions, the compartment was quiet. The grey sky outside reflected the mood inside. Luna was reading _The Quibbler_ , giggling to herself often; Ginny had pulled out one of her new schoolbooks, electing to ignore Neville's anxious foot tapping as he rummaged through his bag; and Harry was gazing out the window, probably wishing Ron was with us. Neville made a joyous sound and pulled out a potted plant from his bag. It looked like a grey cactus with large growths on it.

"What is that," I frowned as the thing pulsed.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Neville raised the pot up slightly. "It's very rare. I can't wait to show Professor Sprout! It does loads of things! It's got a cool defense system!"

Neville then jabbed the plant. Foul smelling green liquid sprayed out of the growths. Ginny and I squealed as we tried to get out of the way. The liquid got everywhere; Luna's magazine, which she used as a shield, had been soaked and was crumbling slightly, Ginny's hair was drenched in green goo, Neville and Harry got a face full, and I had turned away just in time for it to spray my entire right side. Neville began apologizing profusely, but the damage was already done. The compartment smelled like rancid manure. Ginny who was now smirking at the incident, waved his apology off. She fluttered her wand in the air and had the whole mess cleaned up.

When Ron and Hermione had come back, Harry's mood had worsened. Our friends filled our compartment in on who the new prefects were; Draco and Pansy Parkinson were chosen for Slytherin, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott for Hufflepuff (Neville perked up a bit at the mention of the girl's name), and Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw. Harry hadn't been paying attention when Ron started coming up with theories as to how Draco was given the position of prefect. I rolled my eyes. I may have disliked my cousin, but even I knew that he had the best marks in his house's year. Ron was in the middle of his complaining when the door slid open. Draco stood with his arms crossed and flanked, as always, by Crabbe and Goyle.

"What do you want," Harry asked rather aggressively. It was the first thing he had said in almost an hour.

"Watch your mouth, Potter, or I'll give you detention."

"We aren't even on school grounds, Draco," I sneered at my uppity cousin.

"Oh? Didn't your little friends tell you? Once the first meeting on the train is over, we prefects have full power to hand out punishments. And, I, being a prefect, can and will punish who I see fit."

"Sure," Harry rolled his eyes. "Prefect or not, you're still a git. So get out and leave us alone."

We all laughed as Draco's face scrunched up. He started to compare Harry to Ron which made me and Hermione stand up, gripping out wands. "Get out," Hermione said.

Draco laughed this time, "Touched a nerve, have I?"

"Hermione's a prefect too. If she says get out, then get out," I growled, stepping closer.

"Is there a problem here?" From behind the Slytherins, Fred stood tall and imposingly. Draco's eyes narrowed. "Or do I have to remind you what happens when you mess with my girl?"

Draco scoffed. He threw one last malicious look at Harry and turned to leave. Crabbe and Goyle pushed passed Fred but Draco stayed. Under his breath I heard him whisper, "You can do better than a blood-traitor, cousin."

Fred, who must have seen my reaction, placed a hand on my cheek. I smiled weakly at him. My friends were looking at the two of us as Luna continued to read, unaffected by anything. Fred announced that he was stealing me away and happily led me out of the compartment. I thought I heard Ginny yell after us and Ron groan in annoyance.

* * *

Fred had brought me to the luggage carriage which was devoid of any persons, or so I hoped. Fred walked the carriage up and down, making sure we were actually alone. The grin plastered to his face when he came back to me said it all. Fred grabbed my waist, backing me into a stack of trunks.

"How much time do we have," I whispered breathily as Fred nipped at the flesh just below my earlobe.

"Mmm I'd say ten minutes before someone comes looking for us."

"Perfect," I sighed.

Fred raised his head and his lips were on mine in a sweet kiss. I melted into his arms. He was the only thing grounding me to reality because I could have sworn I was floating. His lips were a little rough and his hands gently slid up my sides. As Fred deepened the kiss, I let him have full dominance. A fire tore through my body like never before. Maybe it was the warmth of his hands on my skin, or maybe it was his tongue that had snaked its way into my mouth. I felt my stomach clench and a throbbing started between my legs, something I hadn't felt before. I pressed my thighs together, trying to stop the throbbing, but that only caused more friction which made me moan in pleasure.

"If you keep on making those noises, love, I won't be able to stop myself from ravishing you," Fred laughed as he pulled away, both of us hot and panting.

I blushed, not able to look at the gorgeous boy in front of me, "Do you want me as badly as I want you right now?"

Fred lifted my chin up. His eyes were darker and more dilated. A large grin tugged at his lips, "Love, I've wanted you since the Yule Ball."

Fred's hand moved from my chin to my shoulder to the top of my breast. His fingers circled around my shirt, cupping the full size of it. A soft kiss was placed on the corner of my mouth. The throbbing between my legs was working overtime. Desire rolled through me in crashing waves. Sensing what I was feeling, Fred's eyes darkened. His free hand rested on my thigh, dipping closer and closer to the spot I wanted him to touch more than ever. At the Burrow and Grimmauld Place, whenever we were alone, Fred and I started to explore more and more of each other. It was nothing more than making out heavily and touching over clothing in case we had to make a quick getaway. But in the luggage carriage, I desired more. Tonks had given me a No-Maj book on sex and sexuality over the summer. Better to be prepared now that you have a boyfriend, she'd told me seriously. So I was well aware of my aroused state. And Fred's, for that matter. I could feel his own arousal on my leg. I was trying not to get too carried away though for we were on the Hogwarts Express and not really alone.

The carriage door opening was the sign that our time together was up. A flicker of annoyance flashed across Fred's face. He took my hand and pulled me behind the luggage columns to wait for the person to pass. When the coast was clear, we made a dash for the door. I giggled at the thought of another successful rendezvous getaway. We walked hand-in-hand back to my compartment. At the door, Fred leaned down and pressed his nose to my cheek, murmuring in my hair, "Until next time, my love."

My face was red as I entered the compartment, squishing in next to Ginny and Hermione. The two smirked into their books. Neville, who was rummaging through his bag, looked up with a sweet smile, "Oh, Cora. We were just about to send someone to look for you."

My face turned as red as the Weasleys' hair.


	8. Chapter 8

Pamela Hutchins: Thank you again for your review! This chapter is book heavy. Just a warning lol.

* * *

 _ **Chapter 8: The Start of a New Term**_

Rain spattered the windows here and there as we pulled into Hogsmeade Station. The clouds were parting but it was still cold and very wet on the station. The ground was muddy and stuck to everything as the hundreds of students made their way to the horseless carriages. My friends and I hung back to say hello to Hagrid, but he was not at the station. Instead, Professor Grubbly-Plank was seen escorting the first years. Not quite sure what was going on, we ended up being some of the last students to the carriages.

"It's like I said," Draco's voice said loudly from behind us, "I'm surprised the Ministry's letting Potter walk around freely. Better enjoy it while he can." As Draco sauntered by with Crabbe and Goyle, he stared right at Harry, squinting at him up and down. "I expect there's a cell in Azkaban with your name on it!"

Harry lunged at my cousin who backed up in shock. Ron had to grab Harry's arms. Draco pulled at his rumpled robes and scoffed. Harry shouted at his retreating form, "Just stay away from me!"

"Complete nutter," Draco laughed out loud.

"It's only Malfoy," Ron soothed a panting Harry. Hermione, who had took my hand in fear of a fist fight, looked on with wide eyes. Ron let go of Harry's arms as Draco and his followers got into a carriage. "What'd you expect?"

Harry shook his head and walked away from us. Ron, Hermione, and I watched him go with heavy hearts. Harry was becoming more and more volatile. If we thought he was bad during the summer, I wasn't so sure how he'd be this school year. But as Ron and Hermione followed Harry to the carriages, I decided to chalk it up as teenage hormones. When we caught up to Harry, he was staring at something. Cho Chang and her Ravenclaw friends were sitting in a carriage a few feet from us. She sent him a small smile as her carriage pulled away and up towards the castle.

"What is that," Harry asked, pointing to nothing.

"What," Ron asked in confusion.

"That horse thing."

Ron, Hermione, and I looked at Harry oddly. "There's nothing there, Harry," I frowned.

"But you – can't you see it?"

"See what," Ron looked baffled.

"The horse pulling the carriage, that's what!"

Ron looked seriously alarmed. The three of us looked around, the carriage was pulling itself, as they had always done. Something was off here. Harry wouldn't be so upset, faking about horses. And if there _were_ horses, Ron, Hermione, and I wouldn't go out of our way to pretend they weren't there. So who was right?

As we got on the carriage, the dreamy voice of Luna sighed, "You're not going mad. I can see them too."

"You can," Harry asked almost incredulously. He must have assumed he was, in fact, mad if Luna Lovegood could see these invisible things.

"Oh yes," she said. "You're just as sane as I am." Harry smiled faintly as our obviously horseless carriage pulled us up towards the castle.

* * *

The castle felt nice and warm with all of the torches ablaze. The tables in the Great Hall filled up quickly with hungry students under the inky black ceiling. The candles flickered in the air as ghosts loomed about. The hall was loud with conversations about summer news and greetings from one table to another. It was also not hard to notice the whispers that went around as I followed Harry to our table. I knew from the way that his shoulders were hunched that he was trying to pretend that he did not care what was being said about him.

The moment we reached the Gryffindor table, Ginny caught the attention of her secret (which wasn't a secret to me) Ravenclaw boyfriend, Michael Corner, and walked off. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and I found seats together in the middle of the long table. Harry, still ignoring the whispers, looked over the heads to the staff table.

"He's not here."

I looked at the staff table too. True enough, Hagrid was not in his usual spot. "But he can't have left," Ron voiced, sounding anxious.

"You don't think he's – _hurt_ , do you?"

Harry was quick to answer with a definite no. Hermione sunk in her seat a little. I kept looking at the staff table, seeing the familiar and comforting faces of my teachers. McGonagall was dressed in her usual emerald robes as she stood up to go and greet the first years who were probably in the entrance hall by now. Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair, was clad in purple robes. He was talking to a woman who was dressed all in pink. She looked like a spinster great aunt; short and squat with an upturned nose and curly brown hair. Her atrocious pink outfit consisted of a fluffy cardigan instead of robes, a long pencil skirt, pink Mary-Janes that looked a little too tight on her feet, and a fluffy pillbox hat. She looked like a toad.

"Who's that," I asked, nudging Harry and pointing to the pink woman.

"It's that Umbridge woman," he whispered harshly, his eyes widened. "She was at my hearing. She works for Fudge!"

The doors to the Great Hall swung open and McGonagall led the first years through. As always, the hall filled with the gasps and wonder-filled sighs from the first years. The Gryffindor Head of House placed the Sorting Hat on the stool in front of the first years and the buzz died down. A few of them looked like they were trembling. Then the Sorting Hat's mouth opened, no one was prepared for what came out.

A tale of the founders Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff had us all enraptured. From the moment the hat sang about their friendship, I knew it wouldn't last. Only three minutes into the song, the four divided into three. The houses hadn't been united since. But the hat warned that Hogwarts was in danger and, should we remain divided, we'd crumble from within.

Once the Sorting Hat was motionless again, a soft applause broke out. For the first time, there were whispers and muttering laced among the clapping. Everyone had turned to look to their neighbors, exchanging confused remarks. The Sorting Hat usually just sang about the qualities of each of the Hogwarts Houses. I mean, it kind of did that. But I had never heard or read anything about the hat giving the school somber advice before.

"Well, that was…morbid," I frowned, replaying the song in my mind.

"Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it," Ron said with raised eyebrows.

Harry hummed in agreement.

The sorting began and when all of the first years were in Houses, Dumbledore clapped his hands and the food appeared. Sir Nick floated by and started up a conversation with Harry and Ron as Hermione started talking to Neville. Some minutes later, Hermione butted into their conversation and she and Ron started arguing. Harry and I rolled our eyes, used to them bickering like an old married couple on the fritz. Fred, who was sitting a few people away, caught my attention by throwing a chocolate chip cookie at my face. I glared at my boyfriend who waggled his eyebrows. I shook my head, biting into the cookie while staring right into his eyes, my own eyebrows waggling. Ah, love.

When all of the students had their fill, the noise level in the Great Hall rose again. Dumbledore got to his feet and went to stand behind his golden owl podium. Talking stopped as soon as he raised his hands for silence. I was feeling contently full now. I rested my head on my hand, thinking about my soft new bed in the fifth year dormitory.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," Dumbledore clapped. Before I begin the usual announcements; we have two new changes in staffing this year. We're pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank who will be taking over Care of Magical Creatures while Professor Hagrid is on temporary leave." (Let it be known here that the only person who clapped for this announcement was Snape) "We also wish to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Professor Dolores Umbridge."

There was a round of polite applause. Harry looked upset when Dumbledore didn't say how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching. Dumbledore continued with Quidditch tryouts when he was interrupted by a high pitched throat clearing of " _hem, hem"_. Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had gotten to her feet and walked over to the podium, obviously intending to make a speech. Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback. But he smartly gave her the floor. The other staff members did not hide their surprise as well as our Headmaster did.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge smiled, "for those kind words of welcome. And how lovely to see all your bright, happy faces smiling up at me…" I looked around. No one was smiling. It suddenly occurred to me that I hated the fake tone of Professor Umbridge's voice. "I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends."

"That's likely," I heard the twins mutter to each other as they both placed their heads on their palms.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again with that high pitched cough. This time, however, she looked more serious. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. Although each headmaster had brought something – new – to this historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged…"

I found my attention fading as I started to fall into a food-coma. My eyelids felt heavy and my hearing went spotty as our new professor continued to talk. The hall was quiet because no one could quite understand where the pink lady was going with her speech. Umbridge didn't seem to notice this, however, as she kept on going. From what I could tell, only the teachers and few students had her full attention.

"…let us preserve what must be preserved. Perfect what can be perfected. Prune practices that ought to be prohibited."

Umbridge giggled again, taking in her audience and then walked back to the staff table. Dumbledore clapped, which led us all to clap. I brought my hands together only once before stopping. Our headmaster had started his speech where he was interrupted, but my friends and I were not paying attention.

"That was a dull speech if I've heard any," Ron yawned. Harry was still staring up at the staff table.

"Don't you listen, Ronald," Hermione sighed. He shrugged. "It means that the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts. And who knows what else."


	9. Chapter 9

Apfelcrumble: Thank you for your sweet review. I've been so busy with reality but Hogwarts always calls be back eventually. This chapter is also quite book/movie heavy but starts to become more of my own as Cora starts to become more involved in things she shouldn't and her and Fred's relationship blossoms.

Pamela Hutchins: More new ideas on the way! This one is really just kind of a filter to advance what I want Cora's future to be. Let's see if you catch it!

A/N: Thank you for bearing with my long hiatuses as life does get in the way. But I do try to write at least a little bit a day (if only sometimes ideas for future chapters).

* * *

 _ **Chapter 9: Everyone Thinks Harry's Crazy**_

The walk back to the common room was a quiet one. Harry, annoyed by the whispers and sordid looks from other students, broke off from our group. His shoulders tensed as he passed the Hufflepuff first years' who blatantly pointed and gasped. Ron, Hermione, and I hurried off to the Gryffindor tower. Of course people were staring at Harry. How could they not? Not after what happened at the tournament last year. And poor Cedric… Harry hadn't been able to explain himself and the terrible account of what happened in the maze just derailed.

Somehow, we beat Harry to the common room. It was already crowded with overwhelmed first years and students catching up. It seemed like every nook and cranny of the warm and cozy room was taken. The fire cracked and popped as someone started to play a Weird Sisters song on an old enchanted radio. Ron led us to the boys' staircase where he went up a few steps and sat, waiting for Harry. Hermione took the last step and I leaned against the wall, waving to Lavender and Jo as they went up the girls' stairs. Across from me, Fred and George had just pinned up some flyer on the notice board.

When Harry finally walked in, the room grew quiet. The music, which I hadn't really been able to hear, was now the loudest noise in the common room. Heads turned as Harry made his way deeper into the masses. Students holding the _Daily Prophet_ scowled. Seamus was unfortunately one of them.

"Dean. Seamus," Harry acknowledged this and nodded to the two boys in our year. "Good holiday?"

"All right," Dean nodded. Ron and Hermione were standing up now that Harry was with us again. "Better than Seamus' anyway."

Seamus angrily threw down the paper. He stood up, glaring at Harry, "Me mum didn't want me to come back this year."

Already knowing where this was going, Harry sighed, "Why not?"

"Uh, because of you," the Irish boy said spitefully. " _Daily Prophet's_ been sayin' a lot of things about ya, Harry. Dumbledore too.

"What? Your mum believes them?"

"No one was there the night Cedric died."

"Well, read the _Prophet_ then, like your stupid mother…"

"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that," Seamus raised his voice, taking a step towards Harry.

Harry defended himself, "I'll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar!"

"Harry, leave it," I whispered to him, pulling on his robe. Seamus' eyes narrowed at me.

"Don't tell me you believe his rubbish about You-Know-Who, Cora!"

"Yeah, we do," Ron said, coming up on Harry's other side. Hermione stepped next to him. The three of us looked at the either incredulous or proud faces of our fellow Gryffindor students. Ron crossed his arms, "Has anyone else got a problem with Harry?"

No one else spoke up. Harry retreated up the stairs and Ron nudged Hermione. She nodded and grabbed my wrist, leading me up our own staircase.

"I hope Harry's alright," Hermione whispered as she pulled off her robe, folding it on her bed.

"He'll be fine. He's strong. And everyone will see that he's right," I sighed as I rested my head on one of the posters of my bed.

Lavender, who I hadn't noticed sitting on Jo's bed, laughed. Hermione and I looked back at her. She had a look of extreme distaste in her eyes. "Any sane person knows that Harry's lying," she huffed. "He's doing it for the attention, I reckon. Must not get enough here –"

I opened my mouth to yell at our roommate, but Hermione's voice trumped my own, "You keep your big fat mouth shut about Harry!"

We could hear the commotion downstairs again as mine, Lavender's, and Jo's mouths all hung open. It's not that I didn't expect Hermione to stand up for Harry, it's that I didn't expect her to yell at anyone let alone one of our roommates. We all silently prepared for bed after that, not even bothering to ask each other about summer. When I laid in bed, I thought back to Harry and Seamus' argument. I hadn't known Seamus to ever become upset like that. Then my mind turned to Lavender who was sleeping three beds away. It made me unhappy to think that anyone would think Harry – and Dumbledore for that matter – were sort of, well, nuts. I told Hermione that everyone would see Harry was right. But even I didn't believe that now.

It was definitely going to be an interesting year.

* * *

The next morning I had gotten up before any of the girls. The common room, which was still dark with closed curtains, was quiet even as some older students headed out for breakfast. Nothing had changed except for the gigantic new sign on the notice board. The sign covered all other welcome announcements and practically took over the entire board. The lettering clashed with the color of the paper and the writing was a bit sloppy, but the twins really knew how to draw one's eye. They were offering money for guinea pigs for their new products. All work undertaken at the applicant's own risk, of course. I rolled my eyes. I supported Fred and George but one day their experiments were going to really hurt someone.

"They are the limit," Hermione's voice huffed behind me. My friend had a small scowl on her face. She was dressed for the first day of classes and her long bushy hair was up in a manageable bun with chopsticks. "Ron and I will have to give them a talk."

Ron, who had just come down the stairs with Harry, looked quite alarmed, "Why would we do that?"

"Because we're prefects now," Hermione rolled her eyes as the four of us left the common room.

Ron did not look happy at all as we made our way down to the Great Hall. I assumed it was because he did not like the idea of stopping the twins from doing what they liked. Hermione made it obvious she would use her newfound position to put a stop to their shenanigans. I, however, made it clear to her that I would take no part in her personal crusade. I wouldn't help stop my boyfriend from doing what he loved.

I felt uncomfortable when we finally reached the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione had started bickering when a group of Ravenclaws ran passed us in a tight group, each one looking back at us with fear in their eyes. Harry had been silent as two older Slytherin girls sniggered as they bumped their shoulders into him. I felt on edge and anxious which was not how I wanted to start my OWLs year.

We hadn't even filled our plates with breakfast when Angelina Johnson marched up to Harry with a cross look. Harry muttered a greeting which made her cross her arms over her chest. She had been made our Quidditch Captain. We each gave her a small smile of congrats as she told Harry about tryouts. With Oliver gone, Angelina wanted the whole team to show up to see how his replacement would mesh. Oliver was a good Keeper. I knew it would be hard to find someone as hardworking and dedicated to the sport as he was.

As Angelina left, McGonagall approached with our timetables. Ron groaned when he scanned the lessons, "Look at today! History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts! Bins, Snape, Trelawney, and Umbridge all in one day! I wish Fred and George would hurry up with their Skiving Snackboxes…"

"Do mine ears deceive me," Fred announced, walking up to us with George beside him, grinning like an idiot. George squeezed next to Harry's right, pushing a second year away from his food, and Fred nestled himself between Harry's left side and me. Fred threw an arm over my shoulder as he smirked at his little brother across from me. "Hogwarts prefects surely wouldn't want to skive off lessons?"

"A _Gryffindor_ prefect would," I muttered under my breath as Ron grumbled, "I doubt you have the lessons we have today," he tossed his schedule Fred's way. "That's the worst Monday I've ever had."

"Sorry little bro," Fred shook his head, reaching over to hand the schedule to George. "And what classes is my beautiful ray of sunshine taking this year?"

I handed over my schedule, sighing, "All of the core classes, obviously. Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and –"

"Art," Fred questioned with a slight cock of the head. "What happened to Muggle Art? You loved that class."

"Yeah, I dropped Muggle Art," I shrugged, taking a sip of orange juice. I saw my friends all look at me for further information. "Ted suggested I take Wizarding Art and learn how to make my drawings move. I was questioning if it would be beneficial to keep it this year and he encouraged me do what I love. I love to draw and paint, so, naturally, Art would be a great class for me to take as an elective this year."

"Well, who knows," Fred nudged my side. "Maybe one of your pieces will end up in Hogwarts one day."

I looked up at Fred Weasley with a grateful smile. I pressed a quick peck on his lips and Ron loudly cleared his throat. "So can I have something or what," Ron asked, looking down at his food.

Fred rolled his eyes. George chuckled at Ron's uncomfortableness over my little PDA with Fred. "You can have a Nosebleed Nougat for cheap if you want," George offered.

"Why is it cheap," Harry asked.

"Because you'll keep bleeding until you shrivel up. We haven't gotten an antidote yet."

"Great," Ron said moodily. "Thanks."

There was a moment of silence as we all ate breakfast. Out of the blue, Hermione said, "You can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor notice board."

"And why not," Fred asked haughtily at the same time George asked, "Who says?"

"Me," Hermione sat up straighter. "And Ron." We all looked at Ron whose ears turned bright red. He seemed to sink into his spot a little bit. Hermione glared daggers at him when he didn't respond.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough," Fred smirked as he stabbed a sausage on my plate with his fork. "Fifth year's OWL year."

"So?"

"So…" George nodded. "You'll have so many exams and have to study so hard you'll want to die. The year is filled with tears and tantrums, fainting spells, a lack of sleep, the occasional face-covered-in-boils. It's a nightmare. But Fred and I managed."

"Yeah," Ron snorted. "You got three OWLs each."

"Sure," Fred nodded. "But we agreed that our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement."

"We even debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year," George said brightly, "now that we've got –"

Harry nudged George and the twin stopped talking. He laughed and said something else, but I wasn't listening. I couldn't help but stare at Fred incredulously as he and George joked about Percy and NEWTs. I had no idea that they had talked about not coming back. All the time we spent together over the summer – I had thought we were getting closer. Fred had told me how excited he was to be heading into his last year at Hogwarts. I couldn't help but frown when he laughed, thumping Harry on the back.

"Let's go, George," Fred looked over to his twin, "if we get to class early we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears."

Fred squeezed my shoulder. He winked at Ron with a smirk and leaned down, cupping one side of my face and kissed me hard. As upset as I felt, I couldn't push him away. I heard a wolf-whistle come from down the table. When Fred pulled away from me, he bit his lip and gathered up a stack of toast. George, who was carrying his own stack, thumped his twin on the back and the two walked away. I sighed, not really knowing how to feel. I didn't think hard upon it because the bell for the end of breakfast rang and we went on our way to class.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Pam (Can I call you Pam?). Thank you. I've been in a little writer's depressive slump and seeing you keep asking me to continue has been a big help. Also thank you to everyone who followed my story or me and waited patiently for the next chapter.

* * *

 _ **Chapter 10: Classrooms**_

History of Magic is, was, and always will be the worst way to start Monday classes. I'm sure it could be fascinating. Really, I do. But with a ghost like Binns teaching, there was no need to worry about catching up on sleep. He droned on and on and never strayed from his usual lecture without pause. Taking notes was difficult but Harry, Ron, and I had Hermione to count on because she was the only person who seemed to stay awake during the whole lecture. Usually, if we didn't take a nap, the boys and I would play Hangman or Tic-Tac-Toe to pass the time. Hermione was not happy about it, but she always lent us her notes after class.

* * *

It was just as cold in Snape's dungeon corridor as it was outside. We huddled together a bit as we lined up outside the closed classroom door. Even though I was great at Potions, I inwardly groaned as the door creaked open. I filed in behind my three friends, taking a seat at a table in the back across from them. Potions was the only classroom that sat three to a table. Usually, we'd fight over who had to sit alone, but it was OWLs year and I wanted to prove that I could pass this class without the distraction of my friends. When Snape appeared, the class had fallen silent.

"Before we begin today's lesson," Snape stared at us from his desk. He seemed more stern than usual. "I think it appropriate to remind you that June will be an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of you are, I expect each of you to scrape an 'Acceptable' or suffer my severe displeasure."

"As opposed to every other time," I muttered to Neville. The boy gulped hard.

"I will only accept the very best into my NEWT Potions class. This means some of us will certainly say goodbye," I noticed Snape was staring at Harry. His grimace-like smile made me believe that he wanted Harry to fail. I pressed my lips into a thin line of determination. He wouldn't be able to get rid of me, that's for sure. I was going to show him just how good I was at Potions.

The Draught of Living Peace was a potion to soothe anxiety and agitation. I had been a little familiar with this potion because, over the summer, I had been researching something to help Molly with the Percy problem. It was supposed to work wonders. But, too little and there would be no effect, too much, however, could put the drinker into a heavy and irreversible sleep. With the ingredients and steps on the blackboard, I started my potion.

As I carefully added each ingredient properly, I noticed my potion was turning orange. I was on step fifteen and was right on track. Two more steps to go in ten minutes. I was sweating like a sinner in church as I crushed more porcupine quills into a powder. When Snape passed our table, I passed the pestle and mortar to Neville who was struggling with a foul smelling potion. As I stirred in the powder, my potion began lightening until it turned white. I looked around. Harry was sweating as much as I was; his hair was sticking to his forehead and his glasses were splattered with something as grey as the steam rising from his cauldron. Ron's was emitting green sparks which was very, very wrong. Seamus, who was known for setting things on fire, was trying to put out a fire under his blackened cauldron. He must have forgotten to lower the heat to a simmer before adding the seven drops of hellebore. Before long, time was up and Snape made his rounds, checking each potion. Poor Neville, even with my gentle pushing and soft advice, the contents of his cauldron looked like wet cement. In fact, it felt like it too. My potion was emitting a silvery vapor like it was supposed to do when Snape peered at it. I heard him quietly huff before walking over to my friends' table. I smirked. I had been successful. With homework given out and messes cleaned up, we left the now sweltering dungeon and headed up to the Great Hall for lunch.

* * *

The sky was more murky grey than it had been a few hours ago. Rain was lashing the windows and lightning flashed across the enchanted ceiling. I was just about to sit down next to Hermione when a hand took my own, spinning me around in a circle under a cloaked arm.

"Whoa," I laughed.

"Mind if I steal Cora away," Fred asked my friends. He shook his head, chuckling before anyone answered. "What am I asking for? I'm just going to take her. Bye!"

I had barely grabbed my bag when Fred dragged me away, practically running out of the Great Hall. "Where are we going," I yelled.

"Anywhere," Fred yelled back. I scoffed playfully.

Anywhere landed us in the empty Muggle Art room. Easels were set up in a semicircle facing a bowl of fruit on a marble pedestal. The last class must have been doing some Still Life drawings. The bright and colorful room was washed in grey from the stormy weather outside. Fred, who had never been in the classroom before, browsed the full shelves of paints and colored pencils while I stood across from him, examining the drawings hung up. I spotted one of my sketches of the Quidditch Pitch and noticed that there was a smudge near the hoops. When I looked closer, I saw that the smudge was actually a very tiny person hovering in front of the hoops. Odd, I thought to myself. I didn't remember doing that.

Hearing Fred cough, I turned around. "Isn't it beautiful in here," I opened my arms.

Fred blinked. Suddenly, he was crossing the room with purposeful, long-legged strides. Shocked by his sudden action, I stepped back as he forced me into a short shelf. Fred placed both palms on either side of me and I slowly placed mine on top of his. Fred breathed deeply as our eyes locked. My heart was pounding. This was new. This was exciting. This was also _very_ dangerous. If someone walked into the classroom and saw us we could possibly get into a lot of trouble. I swear I heard Fred's heartbeat as he leaned closer, his breath fanning over my neck. I touched his jaw with my fingertips, sliding them up to his ear until my palm rested on his cheek. I felt his jaw pulse.

"Can I ask you something," I enquired softly.

"Anything," Fred replied just as softly. One of his legs moved between my own and my chest grazed his grey vest.

"Why didn't you tell me you were thinking about not coming back?"

"I was meant for more than this," he muttered, turning his head to kiss the inside of my palm.

"And – you thought – knew – I believe that…?"

Fred bit his lip as he drew his face closer to mine. His breathy response sent a chill down my spine, "Yes."

His mouth was warm and demanding like it had never been over the summer. And I was completely willing. I threw my thoughts out of the rain soaked window as I let his tongue sweep inside my mouth. As much as I was terrified, I had never wanted him so badly. Fred lifted me onto the shelf, cupping my butt before his hands rested on my hips. I pushed his cloak off of his shoulders and Fred wiggled it off. He scraped his teeth against my lower lip and his hands pulled at my own cloak, trying to tear it off. I chuckled as I let it pool around my hips. I quickly placed my hands on the back of Fred's neck, passionately kissing him. But the older boy began trailing his lips down my neck, kissing and biting which fanned the fire in my belly even more.

Running a hand up my chest, Fred cupped a breast, squeezing it. I moaned a little louder than I should have. But that spurred him on even more. The biting stopped and Fred's lips were back on mine. The mark he left on my neck throbbed in pain but I was experiencing too much pleasure to care. His hands fell to my belt. That's when I pulled away.

"Wait," I said, pushing on Fred's chest. "Wait," Fred pulled away from me with a slight pout, "Not here. Not in a classroom."

Fred's lips pressed together. The thought never occurred to me that he'd be mad because I stopped him. Fred wasn't that kind of person. He just smiled gently and kissed me. "You're right," he agreed. "Our first time shouldn't be in a classroom. It should be in a broom cupboard."

I let out a barking laugh. And that's when I knew I really, really did love Fred Weasley.

* * *

Professor Umbridge was not in the classroom when my friends and I entered for Defense Against the Dark Arts. We took two open tables in the middle of the classroom and settled in. This particular class was shared with the Ravenclaws' and there was much chatter. I had just laid my wand out on the desk when I noticed something fluttering in the air. The Patil twins had charmed a slip of paper to fly around as a bird.

"Bring it over here," Lavender Brown giggled. As the paper bird flew close to her face she blew on it, making it rise back up in the air.

It soared over her head and towards Dean and Seamus. The Irish boy jumped up to swat it down but the paper bird swiftly dodged his hand and flew away from the danger. It flew higher and higher, around the new flaming chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Another boy used a slingshot to knock the bird off course with a Bertie Bott's bean. Gasps and laughs erupted when the bird faltered. The pleased noises suddenly stopped when the bird erupted into flames, landing in front of the Patil twins in a pile of ash.

"Good afternoon, class," our new professor greeted us from behind. Everyone turned to see her with her, wand gently in both hands, grinning. The class remained silent as she made her way to the front of the classroom. She tutted, "That won't do. I'd like, if you would please, reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' When I greet you. Let us try again, shall we? Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," we all recited to her.

Professor Umbridge's smile was sickly sweet. It matched her ugly pink cardigan. "Not so hard, hmm," she looked at us with wide eyes. Then she turned away, "Wands away and quills out please."

I frowned. We'd never been asked to put our wands away in a Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was unheard of. Our lessons were performed with wands, not with quills. Even though I didn't think our teacher knew what she was doing, I slipped my wand in my robe pocket (just in case) and pulled out a crumpled parchment and quill from my bag. Umbridge took her unusually short wand and tapped it against the chalkboard.

"Basic principles," I heard Hermione question next to me. On the board, in perfect cursive, read: _Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles_.

"Your learning in this subject has been disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it," Umbridge cooed in a soft voice as she began walking down the aisle of desks. "With the constants change of so many teachers, you are far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. This year, we will be following a Ministry-approved course."

With a wave of her wand, the chalkboard erased itself and something else replaced it. There were three new Ministry-approved aims written down the center of the board. I scoffed but began to write down the three basic objectives of the class. These were things we should have learned in our first year; understand the principles underlying defensive magic, learn to recognize situations in which defensive magic is (here the word 'legally' was added and underlined) used, and placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

When Umbridge was satisfied, she asked us if we read the required book. A few murmurs were not good enough for her. Like she had done earlier, the woman in pink made us repeat "Yes, Professor Umbridge" after she demonstrated how we were to agree with her. With the soft sounds of shuffling, books were placed in front of each student. Hermione's hand shot up.

"Yes," Umbridge acknowledged, sticking her head out slightly.

"There was nothing in here about using defensive spells."

"Using defensive spells," our professor's questioning laugh was high pitched and annoying. "Well, I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom."

"We're not gonna use magic," Ron asked in confusion.

"You'll be learning about defensive spells in a secure, rick-free environment," Umbridge smiled sweetly at everyone. Slight, uncomfortable and confused stares are all she got back. Her beady eyes seemed to land on each student.

"What use is that," Harry asked out loud. "If we are attacked that won't be risk-free."

"Students will raise their hand when they speak in my class," Umbridge said sternly as she turned her back on Harry. He looked over at me and Hermione with an exasperated eye roll. When Umbridge turned back around, she had a strained smile on her face, "It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations, which, after all, is what school is about."

"And how's theory supposed to prepare us for what's out there," Harry interjected.

"There is nothing out there, dear," Umbridge chuckled, her voice full of honey. "Who do you imagine wants to attack children?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Harry trailed off in a mocking tone. I could tell from his clenched fists that his temper was starting to get the better of him. "…maybe Lord Voldemort?"

Gasps and whispering filled the silence. Next to me, Hermione physically slouched in her seat. My right pointer finger started tapping on the desk in anticipation because Umbridge didn't flinch like most of the students; her eyes were wide and a tiny satisfied smirk was playing on her lips.

Umbridge's voice suddenly became very low as she walked down the aisle towards Harry, "Let me make this quite plain. You have been told that a certain _Dark Wizard_ has returned once again. This. Is. A. Lie."

"It is NOT a lie," Harry burst. Ron, Hermione, and I all jumped. "I saw him! I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!"

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?!"

There was a collective intake of breath. Apart from myself, Ron, and Hermione, no one knew about what happened that night in the maze. I closed my eyes to keep the image of Cedric's dead, glassy eyes from coming back up. When my eyes opened again, everyone was staring at either Harry or Umbridge.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," Umbridge explained coldly, her voice went up an octave.

"It was murder," Harry yelled. He was so close to getting out of his seat and shaking our teacher. "Voldemort killed him and you must know it!"

"ENOUGH!"

"You –"

"Come here, Mr. Potter," Umbridge collected herself with a high giggle. It felt as if the rest of the class released its breath. She turned and grabbed something from her desk. Harry pushed himself from his and strode to the front of the classroom in anger. Umbridge scribbled something and handed a pink parchment to Harry without looking at him. She wrinkled her nose, "Take this to Professor McGonagall." He took the parchment without a word. When he turned on his heel, his gaze was directed straight ahead. As he passed me, I tugged on his robe sleeve. I whispered his name. Harry's arm jerked away as he kept walking. Before he reached the door, Umbridge cleared her throat, "Oh, and, Mr. Potter? Twenty points from Gryffindor for your interruptive outburst."

Harry slammed the door shut on his way out.


End file.
